Saving the Savior
by befoulmetalroosa
Summary: Harry is tired. He's looking for a way out from under the monumentally heavy burdens he must bear. Salvation comes in the form of a blond Slytherin, and an unexpected friendship. Genderswap; eventual het. D/H, R/Hr, T/P/B, Tm/S
1. Part One

**Saving the Savior**

 **Part One**

 **A/N:** This fic was inspired by one of the stories in Kamerreon's drabble collection, _If Wishes Were Thestrals,_ entitled _Voldemort/Harry and "vacant eyes"._ Though she no longer writes slash, this was a good collection, and I am grateful for the inspiration. **WARNING!** **Gender-swap**. If this isn't the kind of story for you, leave now. Otherwise, enter at your own risk. DON'T come crying to me about how much you hate this story for the gender-swapping. I will just laugh in your face, and point to the big warning word above. I'm serious! Don't do it. I'll just add your pathetic reviews to the Kiwifarms message boards, and let them rip you to shreds.

* * *

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Draco asked belligerently. 'Here' was an abandoned classroom on the seventh floor. Malfoy came to the room often, to contemplate his future and try to figure out how to best serve his Lord. The sixth year Gryffindor barely moved at the sound of Draco's voice. He continued to stare out the window as he perched on the sill. Draco, hating to be ignored, stepped closer and practically snarled, "Answer me, Scar Head." Finally, the raven turned to look at the blond, and Malfoy had to struggle to hide his surprise at the desolation in Harry's emerald eyes.

"I come here to get away from everyone," he answered softly, a sad smile on his face. "I come here to enjoy the silence; to escape the non-stop training and the badgering and the planning and the nightmare that is my life." Harry snorted softly before a calculating gleam lit his eyes. "Say, Malfoy, how would you like to do me a favor?" Silver eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Depends on what the favor is, and what's in it for me?" The raven chuckled before continuing.

"I want you to take me to Voldemort. I want you to present me to him. I have a proposal that he may be interested in, and it will help him win the war."

* * *

"Potter? Have you decided when you'd like to go see the Dark Lord?" Draco asked softly. They were, once again, in the abandoned classroom where they had first discussed the proposal, lounging on sofas transfigured from desks and chairs. Wards surrounded the room, to prevent anyone from intruding or even finding them. Harry turned his head languidly toward the blond, a small smile on his face. _Merlin,_ Draco thought absently, _his eyes are so luminous. Too bad he's a bloke and not a bird. I wouldn't mind courting him if he were a girl._

"I'm thinking at the end of the school year," the raven answered absently, looking intently at the other boy. Draco blushed under the scrutiny, scowling at the discomfort the other boy caused him.

"What are you staring at, Pot Head?"

"Mmm? Nothing. Just thinking how beautiful you are in this light."

* * *

"Draco?"

"Yes, Potter?" The raven grimaced, glaring at the blond.

"Firstly, please call me Harry. We've been meeting every night for a while, so it's time you call me by my given name." Silver eyes glinted with humor as Draco acknowledged the request. "Secondly, what exactly is Voldemort's agenda? What is it he wishes to accomplish?" Draco's eyes narrowed in thought, and there was a comfortable silence while Harry waited for his answer. Finally, the blond's face brightened and he began to explain.

"The Dark Lord only wants to keep our world protected. He wants to prevent any muggles from discovering us, or exterminating us. The only way to do that is to curtail the numbers of muggleborns and halfbloods that cross our borders. Without knowing whether or not they will be staying in our world, we've opened ourselves to them, and to the inherent danger that the muggle world will find out about us through them."

"That makes sense. But what about all the talk about blood purity?"

"It's been a long-held belief that the muggleborn wizards aren't nearly as strong as the purebloods. Halfbloods are also inherently weaker magically, as well. Only by not polluting our blood or our world with muggle influences will we remain a strong and healthy society." Harry scowled at the rhetoric, and Draco was quick to continue. "Those beliefs are only held by the oldest of the pureblood families. Unfortunately, mine was one of them until the Dark Lord sat us down and explained things." He paused, a bemused smile on his face. "It came as quite a shock to Father to learn that our Lord was, in fact, a halfblood himself. Couple that with you, and your muggleborn friend Granger, and all of our beliefs were beginning to fall apart."

"So Voldemort doesn't support blood purity."

"No, he doesn't. What he supports is integrating the muggleborns and halfbloods into our world more completely. To do this, he wants to take the muggleborns away from their parents at birth, and he wants to separate the muggle parent from the magical parent in the halfblood children's homes. If the witch or wizard is not willing to let their muggle spouse go for the sake of protecting their children and our world, they will be obliviated, their magic bound, and the children taken from them. The magical spouse in the relationship will also be sterilized so that they cannot make any more halfbloods."

"That hardly seems fair to the halfbloods," Harry said, scowling. "What will he do with them? Put them in magical orphanages? That won't be any better than them being raised by their parents."

"You're right. That's why the children will be put with pureblood families willing to sponsor them and take care of them."

"And the muggleborn babies?"

"They will be taken and raised by willing families, as well. They will bring fresh new blood to our world, and strengthen our magic. It would only be to our benefit to take them in and welcome them. You see, because of the inbreeding that has occurred in our society, to maintain that vaunted blood purity, we've given birth to fewer and fewer children, and more and more squibs. There are now wizarding couples that are unable to have children of their own because of how closely tied together all the pureblood families are. These couples are desperate for children, and are willing to raise and love any child, be it pureblood, halfblood, or muggleborn." Here, Draco paused for a moment, looking at his friend sadly. "There were several loving, willing families that wanted you," he said softly. "They would've given up _everything_ to raise you. Many of them knew your parents; had gone to school with them. No one knew where you were, or even if you were _safe_. Dumbledore had hidden you too well. For what it's worth, I'm sorry that you had to go through what you did growing up." Harry acknowledged the information and the apology with a nod of his head, silent for a time as he thought over what he'd been told. Finally, he asked the question foremost on his mind.

"But what about the muggle parents? It's hardly fair to steal their children, especially if they love them."

"The Dark Lord agrees, which is why he plans on replacing the muggleborn children with non-magical orphaned and abandoned babies. With a little bit of magic, the muggle babies will be as their natural children. The Dark Lord doesn't want to _punish_ the muggles; he only wants to _protect_ us and our magic."

"That _sounds_ reasonable," the raven said quietly. "But Dumbledore said…" Draco sneered at the mention of the headmaster before answering.

"Dumbledore believes what he wants to believe. He wants to make our world more open to muggles, believing that we can get along with them. He refuses to believe that they are a danger to us, so he completely refuses to listen to anything anti-muggle. The Dark Lord's ideas are sound, and logical. But they smack of separatism, something Dumbledore is against." Harry was silent as he thought over everything his friend had told him. Draco allowed him the time to process the information, knowing that, no matter what decision he made, the blond would still consider Harry a good friend. Finally, after long minutes of silence, Harry nodded, and Draco knew that the brunet was on their side.

* * *

"Harry? Are you sure you want to do this?" Malfoy asked softly, his hand wrapped around Harry's elbow. The raven nodded, too excited and anxious to speak. They stood in an apparition alcove at King's Cross, and Draco pulled Harry closer, wrapping an arm around the raven's waist. Harry leaned into the comfort of the blond as Draco side-along apparated them to Malfoy Manor and Potter's new future. Ron and Hermione passed the alcove moments later, the noise of the station drowning out the sounds of apparition. They looked left and right, frantically searching for their missing friend.

"He _has_ to be around here _somewhere_ ," Hermione said, tears in her eyes. "We didn't see him on the train, nor did we really see him at the Leaving Feast. Perhaps…perhaps one of the Death Eaters' children took him away?" The worry was phrased as a question, Hermione refusing to believe that the Savior could just vanish into thin air. Ron looked at her, his own blue eyes worried.

"Who's going to be the one to tell his muggle family that we've lost him?"

* * *

"My Lord," Draco said reverently as he bowed deeply to the man seated on the throne. Riddle's snakelike visage had faded back into his natural appearance, thanks in large part to a potion and ritual that Lucius Malfoy, his closest friend, and Severus Snape, his consort, had discovered.

"Rise, young Malfoy, and tell me what brings you here?" The blond stood tall before his Lord, and could barely contain the glee that threatened to escape.

"I have brought you Harry Potter." Silence met this announcement as every Death Eater in attendance stopped what they were doing to stare at the Malfoy heir.

"How were you able to bring Potter to me?" the Dark Lord asked suspiciously. "He is closely guarded and surrounded by nearly impenetrable wards." Draco allowed himself a small smirk.

"Potter actually approached me with a proposal. He said that he could help you win the war." Hazel eyes widened in shock at the revelation.

"Bring him to me, Draco," the man said softly, his eyes narrowed in thought. Turning, the blond strode to a door hidden in the shadows at the edge of the room. He stepped through it for a moment, returning quickly with a raven-haired, emerald eyed boy in tow. Tom's heart sped up in excitement as he saw his enemy approach him. He gasped in stunned surprise as the boy instantly dropped to his knees, his head bowed and his hands clasped together in his lap.

"My Lord," he murmured softly, making Tom Riddle shiver unexpectedly. _I feel the winds of change blowing, and they're removing obstacles from my path._ Harry looked up at the Dark Lord, making the older man gasp in shock as his gaze met the empty eyes of the teen before the boy dropped his gaze to the hands in his lap. Shuddering at the lack of life in those emerald eyes, the man finally spoke.

"Young Draco tells me that you come to me with a proposal to end the war. Care to tell me how you can accomplish this remarkable feat?" The answer threw Riddle for a loop; it was not the response he'd expected, but it was not an unwelcome reply, either.

"I know the prophecy in full. Would you like to hear it?" At Riddle's nod, the raven continued. " _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark_ _ **him**_ _as his equal, but_ _ **he**_ _will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."*_

Riddle's eyes narrowed in thought as the Gryffindor's voice faded, his ruminations concentrating on the emphasis of certain pronouns in the prophecy, and the silence was heavy with expectation. More than one Death Eater had stepped closer, wand drawn as if he or she had expected Harry to cast a curse at their Lord. Finally, the silence was broken by rich, full laughter. Everyone stared in shock at Riddle as he laughed and laughed, his joy spreading until everyone in the room was either giggling, chuckling, laughing, or smiling widely.

"I understand what your proposal is, Potter," he finally gasped out, breathless from his mirth. "It is a very clever way to circumvent the prophecy and end this ridiculousness. Are you sure that you want to do this? To end the war this way?" Emerald eyes full of pain, loss, betrayal and sadness met Riddle's own, and Tom felt a wave of protectiveness overwhelm him. _He is but a child,_ he thought, stunned. _In all of this, we'd forgotten that he is but a child._

"I'm sure," Harry answered softly. "I'm so very tired. I know that you're magically stronger than me. You have decades of experience that I will never hope to match. I have no chance against you and…and…I want to live. Selfish as that must sound, I want to live, and I have no chance for that if I have to fight you."

"Very well, Potter." He turned to Lucius and Narcissa, smiling gently at his dearest friends. "Set up a suite of rooms for him, and make him as comfortable as you can." He then turned to his consort, love gleaming softly in his eyes. "Severus, you must make an _ex vir ut mulier_ potion for Mr. Potter." Ebon eyes reflected surprise as the Potions Master looked closely at the teen still kneeling on the floor. He nodded and stepped from the room, intent on brewing the potion as soon as possible. Draco looked at his friend in shock as the raven stood and waited for the Malfoys. "Rest easy, Potter," Riddle said to him as he left the ballroom. "Once the changes have been made and you've settled in, we'll talk some more."

* * *

"H-Harry? Are you sure you want to do this?" Draco asked hesitantly. The Gryffindor was sprawled on the large, luxurious bed in his suite, wearing a happy smile. Draco was astonished to see profound relief on the raven's face, and the worry and stress that the other teen had been under seemed to melt away before the blond's eyes.

"I'm sure, Draco. My mum and dad died for me, so that I can live. This is the only way I can see to fulfill that sacrifice and actually _live_. I'm just a tool, to be used as the powers that be see fit. Even if I _was_ able to defeat Riddle, I'd still be treated like a thing. Like I belong to the wizarding world. I would have no real life of my own."

"But…but to make such a drastic change," the blond argued. "How will you adjust to it?" Harry sent a warm smile to the blond.

"I'm hoping that you'll help me," he said softly, shyly.

* * *

"Here is the potion, Potter," Severus intoned gravely, holding out a vial filled with a lavender colored potion. The fragrance wafting from the neck of the bottle was of honeysuckle, and Harry had an instant sense memory of smelling that fragrance while his mum cradled him in her arms. Before he could lose the tenuous control over his emotions, he took the vial from the professor and swallowed the contents, shuddering at the texture, if not the taste of it. It hit his stomach like a lead weight, and he hunched over and collapsed to the floor, gripping his belly tightly as the potion quickly went to work, pain radiating out from his abdomen and throughout the rest of his body. He clenched his teeth as he felt his bones, muscles and skin ripple and twist as the changes to his form took place. Draco stood to one side, his eyes worried as he watched his friend writhe and twist on the floor. Grunts and moans escaped the clenched teeth, and emerald eyes rolled wildly as the excruciating torment increased until it was nigh unbearable. Just when he felt he could take it no more, the agony abated. Panting heavily, Harry lay on the floor, muscles and skin twitching with the aftereffects of the changes.

Draco gaped at the form on the floor. Where once was a rather beautiful young man, with honeyed skin and emerald eyes, there was a strikingly lovely young woman. Her hair was long, and spread around her head like an ebony and auburn halo. Her skin was a pale cream color, her eyes still a mesmerizing emerald. Her face had rounded from the masculine, angular lines, and her jawline had softened as her cheekbones became more prominent. Her lips were full and pouty, formed into a cupid's bow, and her figure was trim and sexy.

"Wipe the drool from your chin, Draco," Severus snarked, a small smile on his face. He was pleased to see that, though Potter had taken on some of the characteristics of her mother in the shape of her face, her father's genes had also been implemented, and had allowed the changes to be subtle enough to negate any obvious resemblance, but blatant enough to nearly eradicate her resemblance to James Potter. No one would be able to link her to the Potter or Evans lines through her appearance.

Instantly, the blond's eyes snapped away from the beautiful young woman on the floor, who was now struggling to stand. Flushing with embarrassment, Draco held out his hand, shivering as her smaller, more delicate hand slid into his. He gently helped her from the floor, turning his eyes away as the oversized trousers and boxers, that had fit when she was male, slid down her legs to pool at her feet. The enormous t-shirt, however, provided sufficient coverage for her modesty, though she blushed furiously. Severus wrapped a robe around the slender girl and helped her to her bed, sitting her down. "I will fetch your parents and our Lord," he murmured to his godson, who had begun to stare again. Shaking his head in amusement, he left, closing the door quietly behind himself. There was silence for many minutes, until Draco finally broke it.

"How do you feel?"

"Strange," she answered, her husky voice vibrating pleasantly along the blond's nerves. "It's going to take some getting used to."

"You're beautiful," Malfoy blurted suddenly, then blushed, dropping his eyes to the floor.

"Thank you, Draco," she answered softly, her hand reaching out and grasping his. He smiled almost bashfully, his thumb stroking her fingers gently.

* * *

"You are lovely, my dear," Narcissa said as she glided into the room, followed by Lucius, Riddle, and Severus. The girl blushed and dropped her eyes, not sure how to comport herself now that she was no longer Harry Potter. Riddle chuckled softly, sitting in a chair beside the bed. Nervous, the girl pulled on Draco's hand, and he sat carefully next to her, shoulders brushing.

"The transformation was successful," Tom stated the obvious. The girl rolled her eyes as everyone else snickered. "Now we must discuss how to handle this. I think that you should stay here, under the auspices of the Malfoy family. I am sure that they would be more than willing to allow you to keep this suite of rooms as your own." Emerald eyes met frosty blue as Narcissa nodded, smiling.

"We would be honored, dear," she said. "The first thing we need to do is come up with a name for you. Has anyone any suggestions?" There was silence for a moment, until Severus cleared his throat. All eyes swiveled to him as he spoke.

"I think we should name her for a flower. Since her mother's name was Lily, I believe carrying on a tradition like that would honor her. There is a very beautiful, exotic flower whose name I believe would imminently suit her. How does Calathea sound?"

"Calathea," the girl murmured, trying it on. "I like it. I want my surname to be Prince. We could claim that I am an orphaned cousin of Severus'."

"That would be acceptable," the man said, his ebon eyes gleaming. He turned to Narcissa, smiling slightly. "I would like you to teach her the finer points of being a pureblood young lady. Lucius and I will go to the Ministry in the morning and register her, as well as register myself as her legal guardian. This will prevent anyone else from trying to place her into an unsuitable environment."

"Father," Draco said softly, his eyes never leaving Calathea, "would you and Mother draw up a betrothal contract between myself and Harr...err...Calathea?" Before Lucius could answer, the blond spoke to the girl by his side. "Calathea, would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you, with hopes of a marriage and children?" Emerald eyes widened on silver, and there was a weighted silence before she answered.

"I will. You honor me with your attentions and intentions, and I will do my best not to disappoint."

* * *

 _*From_ _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ _, written by J. K. Rowling; published 21 June, 2003, by Bloomsbury in the UK, Scholastic in the US, and Raincoast in Canada._

 _Ex vir ut mulier_ is 'from man to woman' in Latin.


	2. Part Two

**Saving the Savior**

 **Part Two**

"Lady Thea, Master Draco is being here to see you," Deenie said. The young lady nodded to her house elf, smiling as the little being escorted the blond into her sitting room. She had spent a glorious five weeks so far within the Manor, learning all she needed to know to carry herself as a proper pureblood lady. Draco had made himself incredibly scarce during this time, only seeing and speaking to her at meals. This was his first official visit as her intended. He strode into the room and bowed deeply to her, before holding out a hand. She lay her smaller, more delicate hand in his and allowed him to escort her to the seating arrangement in front of the fireplace. Once seated on the settee, with him in a wingback chair to her right, he began the time-honored courting ritual of an afternoon tea.

"Milady, might I offer you some refreshments?" She nodded, and he summoned his own house elf, who quickly set the low table in front of her with a tea service. She inhaled deeply, loving the citrus smell of her favorite tea as her emerald eyes met his. He poured for her, adding just one lump of sugar and a dash of milk, the way she liked it, before lifting the cup and handing it to her.

"Thank you, Heir Malfoy," she murmured, blushing and smiling. As she had gotten to know Draco when she was still Harry Potter, she had developed a serious crush on the blond, and now that he was more interested in her, she reveled in the attention. A small part of her mind wondered at his sudden interest, and she put it aside for later consideration, and a later conversation.

"I bring you a gift," he murmured, holding out a small, gaily wrapped package. She quickly put her tea back down on the saucer, hands shaking slightly and making the cup rattle against the plate, and clenched her hands together in her lap. They had talked of many things before she was brought to Riddle, and one of the heartfelt desires she'd expressed was the wish to be treated as special; not for the scar which had become a faint impression on her forehead, or for her old name, but for who _she_ was. Draco had always treated her as a normal person when she was still male, and she looked forward to the change of attentions now that she was female. She took a deep breath, then reached for the package, fingers brushing against Draco's palms and making the blond shudder. Smiling slightly, she carefully removed the wrappings, eyes widening at the small velvet hinged box. Looking quickly up at the blond, her eyebrows rose at the nervous, expectant look on his face. She opened the box and gasped in astonishment.

Inside was a delicate gold band, with one single large square-cut emerald. The band was engraved with stylized lilies, and when she lifted the ring from the box, the inscription on the inside of the band had tears forming in her eyes. _To my Lils, the most beautiful woman in the world. Love James._

"Where did you find this?" she whispered hoarsely, the tears barely held in check. A pale hand entered her field of vision and took her left hand.

"When you became the ward of my godfather, and my betrothed, we were permitted access to your vaults," he answered as he carefully slid the ring on her left ring finger. She was astonished to realize that her mother had the same sized finger as she did. "Dumbledore had convinced the goblins that he was your guardian, and therefore had access to them, while denying you the rights to them. When they were transferred to us, my father received an accounting of your inheritances. Imagine his surprise when it was discovered that the headmaster had been stealing from you since you were orphaned. A quick trip to Gringotts, and all of Dumbledore's ties to you were finally severed, with a promise from the goblins that they would return all the money and possessions that had been stolen from you. Anyway, to take an accounting of what was there, Father and I went into your family heritage vault with a goblin and a list, and made sure that you had not been fleeced by the old man. The ring was inside an armoire, amongst the many other pieces that your mother had received from your father. I thought it would be a perfect first courting gift, to reconnect you with your family.

"The ring will show you memories of your parents when you rub the stone and whisper _ostendo memoria._ Your father had incorporated spells within the ring, for your mother, so that it would collect the happiest moments from their lives together, as well as any happy memories that she had, and store them in the ring. He wanted to ensure that, should they have any sort of falling out, she would be able to relive and remember the good times they had together." Tears were falling from emerald eyes, and the raven was smiling widely at her betrothed.

"Thank you so much, Draco," she breathed, hiccoughing in the middle and ruining the moment briefly. "It's absolutely perfect. How do you know that those spells are on the ring?"

"My father had a similar ring made for Mother. She wears it always, and I recognized the feel of the spells from that."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked frail. He and his Order, as well as the many Aurors he'd enlisted, had searched for weeks for Harry Potter, with no sign of the boy to be found anywhere. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had told the old man that Harry had slipped away from them on the train, and they were unable to make contact with him before they left King's Cross. Owls sent to the Dursleys were returned, the owls looking a little worse for wear. He was completely stymied at how one young man, so well-known and watched, could just _disappear_.

"Albus, do…do you think he's dead?" Molly asked hesitantly. The old man heaved a long-suffering sigh before answering.

"I certainly hope not, my dear. However, the many devices in my office to monitor his well-being have fallen silent. It is my hope that he's merely hiding behind some extremely effective wards, which prevent me from monitoring his health or whereabouts." Many theories were posited, but as there was no way to confirm any of them, the talk degenerated to more and more outlandish and ridiculous ideas. Severus Snape sat in his darkened corner, a smirk curling his lips as he watched, and listened to the center of the Light fall apart.

* * *

"Are you ready for Hogwarts, Thea?" Draco asked softly, his arm around the girl's waist and her head leaning on his shoulder. They were in the gardens behind the Manor, sitting on one of the stone benches. Draco had made sure to put thick and comfortable cushioning charms on it before helping her to sit. She took in a deep breath, and turned her head to briefly nuzzle her nose into the blond's neck. She smirked as she felt the shudder ripple through her betrothed, then answered.

"I'm…not sure. I'm actually surprised that the headmaster has accepted me for who I say I am. He didn't seem to give me a second glance when I took the placement tests. I'm a little worried about Ron and Hermione. I don't know how they'll react to me."

"Do you plan to tell them? After all, Granger has such a hard-on for authority figures that she may tell Dumbledore once you've told her."

"I think I'll feel them out first, see if they can put aside their preconceived ideas of Slytherins before I trust them with anything important." Draco chuckled softly.

"You seem to be sure that you'll be sorted into Slytherin." Calathea gave a husky laugh of her own, making Draco blush at the thoughts he'd suddenly had.

"I was supposed to be in Slytherin in my first year. I talked the hat out of it. I had been misled by Hagrid and Dumbledore, and was too naïve to question what they'd told me. As well, I had met an obnoxious, arrogant prat who made me angry at his bigotry. When I saw him sorted into Slytherin, I knew that it wasn't the house for me. If I hadn't have befriended you, I never would've let go of the prejudices I'd developed through their manipulations and your pompousness."

"I'm sorry for that," Draco said softly, ashamed of his behavior. "I didn't know how else to act. To that point, I was raised in a certain way, to believe a certain thing. I realize, now, that I had absolutely nothing to be that proud of."

There was silence for a time as they enjoyed their last day of freedom. Calathea shifted and sat up, pulling away from her intended. Draco looked at her, puzzled, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. "Um, I have something I need to talk to you about." The seriousness in her face made the blond exceedingly nervous, and he cleared his throat and shifted, eyes scanning the flowers as he waited for the axe to fall.

"When…when I was still Harry Potter, I developed a crush on you," she said softly, eyes down. She didn't see the small relaxation in Draco's posture as he felt a mountain of relief at the statement. "I knew that you would never be interested in me that way, since you _are_ straight, but I thought that if I could continue to be your friend, that maybe you would eventually find me attractive enough to try a relationship. When Dumbledore told me the full prophecy after Sirius died, I thought about it for a long time, trying to come up with a way that I could survive the coming war. When you came into the classroom that first time, I finally figured out a way to save myself and maybe have a chance to be your friend. It grew into so much more as the year went on." She finally looked at him, and giggled at the shocked look on his face, all Malfoy masks gone. "I…I'm just not sure of your feelings for me. I know you didn't find me attractive as a boy, so…"

"Stop right there," Draco said, a finger to her luscious lips. She fell silent, looking into swirling silver eyes, mesmerized. "I can't believe I'm actually admitting to this, but I thought you were beautiful when you were Harry. I often found myself wishing you were a girl, just so I could court you. You started out as a comfortable confidant, and turned into the best friend I've ever had. You made me laugh, and gave me a chance to relax and be myself. You helped me realize that I wanted to be more than just the Malfoy heir. I loved you as Harry. I love you now. You are my heart, Thea. You always have been and always will be."

* * *

 _ **I see you've changed your destiny, little one,**_ the Sorting hat said kindly. _**I am glad that you've found a happiness that had been so long denied you. I also see that you will not argue with my decision this time. Very good. Better be SLYTHERIN!**_

Calathea carefully removed the hat and handed it to McGonagall before she stood and waited for Severus to magic the Slytherin patch to her robes. He gave her a small, pleased smile and she grinned back before darting to the Slytherin table, throwing aside the 'pureblood lady' for the moment in her excitement to sit next to her betrothed. Draco watched her approach with narrowed eyes, and she slowed, walking the rest of the way with her eyes downcast. She carefully sat next to the Prince of Slytherin, muttering a soft apology for embarrassing him. He leaned in and whispered his reassurances in her ear, his breath tickling her, making her giggle and blush. Pansy glared at the interloper, the scowl making her pug face look more doglike.

"Draco," she grit out through clenched teeth, "who is _that_?" Calathea turned toward the girl, emerald eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I'm his fiancée," she answered softly, a smirk on her face. Draco's silver eyes stared down the obnoxious girl, and she had the good grace to flush an unappealing red. She fought back her embarrassment to glare at Calathea with undisguised hatred. She then turned her eyes to the blond, anger sparkling in their depths.

" _We will be having a talk about this shortly_ ," Pansy hissed venomously, all but ignoring the girl to Draco's right. Silver eyes narrowed as the blond stiffened at the censure in the brunette's voice.

"We will _not_ be having a talk about this shortly, Pansy," Draco snapped harshly. "Calathea _is_ my betrothed, and we are to be married after graduation."

"But…but what about _our_ contract?" the girl whined, tears forming in blue eyes, Slytherin mask completely forgotten. Blaise and Theo grimaced at the behavior of the girl, embarrassed for their leader. Tracey Davis watched the byplay between their Prince and Pansy, her eyes narrowed on the venomous, hateful looks the pug-faced Slytherin would occasionally cast at Calathea.

"We _have_ no contract," Malfoy snarled. "There never _was_ a contract between us. That was just wishful thinking on your part. Just for clarification, don't think I didn't know _why_ you wanted to marry me. That had been patently obvious since we were children. I will _not_ be your family's bailout from their financial difficulties. You will _never_ be the next Lady Malfoy."

"What about _her_?" Pansy hissed, all despair forgotten in her rage. "Don't you think _she's_ just looking at you as a meal ticket? After all, the Prince family is more destitute than the Weasleys. Bagging a Malfoy would elevate their family from the dregs of pureblood society. The only good thing to come from the Princes has been Professor Snape. You barely know her. She can't possibly be worthy of you. What would your parents think…? "

"My parents are thrilled to include her in the Malfoy family," Draco interjected, voice icy. "I've known her for _six years_ , and I know that she's _perfect_ for me." Calathea blushed, smiling sweetly at her betrothed.

"If you've known her for that long, where has she been? Why hasn't she been to Hogwarts before now?"

"Before her parents died, she was attending Beauxbaton's. When Severus took over her care after their deaths, he had her transferred to Hogwarts, so that she could be with me." Pansy scowled darkly, glaring daggers at the interfering little slut. _I'll get rid of you,_ she vowed to herself. _I will regain my rightful place by Draco's side. See if I don't.  
_

* * *

"So, Draco, where did she _really_ come from?" Blaise asked as they sat on Draco's bed in the dorms. They'd cast silencing charms around the room and the bed so that they could speak freely. Theo, Daphne, Millie, Vince and Greg were also sitting on Draco's bed. The blond had been leery of leaving his fiancée to the girls' dorm, but Calathea convinced him that she could take care of herself. For a moment, he'd forgotten that she used to be Harry Potter, and was wicked smart in defense.

"I want a Wizard's Oath from everyone that what I'm about to tell you will never go beyond this group." All heads nodded, and after the Oaths were taken, the blond began to speak. "She used to be Harry Potter." Mouths dropped open, and more than one boy inhaled to speak. Draco raised his hand, forestalling anyone from interrupting as he continued. "I found him in that empty classroom on the seventh floor last year. The one I like to go to when I need to think. He was there to escape everyone, and we started to talk. He's the one who started a conversation about going to the Dark Lord with a proposal to end the war.

"When I took him to the Manor at the end of the school year, he met with Voldemort and told him the prophecy. Suddenly, the Dark Lord was laughing and saying that he'd understood what Potter's proposal was. He had Severus brew an _ex vir ut mulier_ potion, Potter drank it, and that's where Calathea came from."

"You're betrothed to Harry Potter," Millicent said quietly.

"No," Draco replied equally quietly, "I'm betrothed to Calathea Prince. Harry Potter _died_ the day he drank that potion, and with it, the prophecy. I…I don't know how to explain it. I thought Potter was stunning, and often wished he were a girl. I even loved him. He was bright and funny and understanding, and the best friend I'd ever had. When he voluntarily took that potion, and changed himself completely, I found myself falling even harder for hi… _her_. She's _everything_ I could've ever wished for in a fiancée. Everything I could've dreamed of in a _mate_. She's _perfect_ , and perfect for _me_."

"Sooo, Harry Potter voluntarily stepped away from the Light?" Theo asked, eyebrow raised.

"He did," Draco answered.

"How is this going to win us the war?" A smug grin crossed Draco's face, and he leaned in to his friends and began to explain the devious plan his fiancée and the Dark Lord had concocted.

* * *

"So what did you do to capture my Draco?" Pansy snarled as soon as the girls reached their dorm. Tracey Davis stood by the doorway to the bathroom, watching. Draco had contacted her during the hols, and had asked her to look after his betrothed. She had considered it a great honor, as the Malfoys were practically royalty in the wizarding world. Additionally, Lucius was the right hand of Lord Voldemort, and Draco was sure to be in the higher echelon of the Inner Circle of Death Eaters. Anything she could do to ensure the happiness and safety of the Malfoy heir and his beloved would guarantee her a prime spot in the organization, and perhaps a high placement in the political arena, once the Dark Lord had taken over. Calathea looked at Pansy with something like pity, a sad smile on her face.

"I did nothing but talk to him," she answered quietly. "I treated him like a person. I scolded him when he needed it, and let him be himself."

"That's _not_ how you're supposed to treat the Heir to the Malfoy dynasty," Pansy snapped, incredulous. "They are royalty in our world, and must be treated with deference and respect. They are infallible, perfect, shining beacons of the wizarding world." Calathea snickered softly as Pansy went on for several minutes, extolling the perfection and virtues of Thea's new-found family. Finally, the pug-faced girl ran out of breath, and noticed that the raven had been laughing at her. "How _dare_ you laugh at me, you filthy _slut_! I'll just bet that you provided _services_ in exchange for their consideration. As soon as my Draco tires of you, he'll come to me, whom he loves with all his heart."

"Oh, you poor, delusional girl," Thea cooed softly. "Draco has loved me for a long time. We've been _together_ for a long time. And, for your information you pug-faced bitch, I am still a virgin."

"How _dare_ you call me a bitch!" she screeched loudly, her wand leveled at Thea's face. The raven just smirked.

"If the dog fits…" she quipped, laughter in her voice. Tracey snorted quietly from her place by the bathroom, but her wand was aimed unerringly at Pansy's back. The Slytherin took no notice of the girl behind her, too intent, in her fury, on her target.

" _Ferveo tergum_ ," Pansy hissed, the virulent crimson light leaving her wand. Calathea laughed outright as she erected a mirror shield, bouncing the curse back at the girl. At the same time, Tracey threw a conjunctivitis curse at Pansy's back, blinding her so that she would receive the full effects of her rebounding spell. It hit the girl in the face, and pain-filled shrieks filled the air as her own skin began to slough off in dripping rivulets. The screams brought Severus on the run, his monitoring spells letting him know that some very Dark magic had been used in the dorms. His wand flying, he canceled the spell on Pansy and tried to mitigate as much of the damage as he could.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed furiously, putting Pansy in a healing coma before levitating her to her bed and closing the curtains.

"Pansy was harassing Calathea and calling her names, Professor," Tracey said softly, coming from the shadows and startling the both of them. "She threw that Dark curse. Calathea was only trying to protect herself when she threw up a mirror shield to deflect it."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked at the reports on his desk with something like horror. He had aged alarmingly when Harry Potter had disappeared, and the frustration of not finding their savior had worn heavily on him. Because he'd been so focused on finding the boy, he'd ignored the rumblings in the Ministry about the takeover by Riddle's men. Now, however, he saw before him the evidence of his neglect. _Merlin_ , he thought despondently, _Fudge is no longer Minister. Somehow, some way,_ _ **Lucius Malfoy**_ _has been made Minister of Magic. There's no way to prevent the exclusion and extermination of the muggleborns now._ There was a knock on his door, startling him out of his musings, and he quickly put the papers away, calling out a welcome to the visitors. The door opened, and his two favorite spies in the school entered.

"Ah, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. What a wonderful surprise. Please, do sit down and tell me why you've come to visit."

"We've been watching the Slytherins, and there seems to be discord amongst the seventh years, specifically centered around Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and the new girl, Calathea Prince. Rumor has it that Miss Prince and Malfoy are betrothed, and Parkinson is trying to get rid of her competition." Hermione's voice was matter-of-fact as she relayed the latest scuttlebutt.

"Discord, you say? Has there been any violence of any sort?" the headmaster asked, concerned.

"I've only heard that Parkinson had been on the receiving end of a Dark curse, and her face has been disfigured," Ron said with a careless shrug. "Couldn't happen to a nicer snake, and it may actually improve her looks."

"That was uncalled-for, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore chastised with an angry frown. "She is close to those who follow Voldemort, and may be able to provide useful information, with the right kind of persuasion. Additionally, I'd like to see an attempt made by the two of you to befriend the students in Slytherin." Ron scowled darkly at the professor. "Any friendships you, or anyone else for that matter, encourage might just pull that many more people away from the Dark path their parents follow. If we can somehow rob Voldemort of more followers, the war may be turned in our favor."

"You've found Harry, then?" Hermione asked anxiously, scooting to the edge of her seat. At the disappointed shake of the old man's head, she collapsed back into her chair, covering her face with her hands and weeping softly. Ron clumsily patted her shoulder, trying to comfort the girl the only way he knew how. "I _know_ he's out there," the redhead murmured comfortingly. " _Somewhere_."

* * *

 _Ferveo tergum_ -to boil skin in Latin


	3. Part Three

**Saving the Savior**

 **Part Three**

"Ron, I think the headmaster's right," Hermione said carefully, watching the redhead's face for any sign of temper. His brow furrowed in confusion, and she smiled fondly at him. "I think we should try to make friends with some of the Slytherins." Blue eyes widened in shock as Ron's mouth fell open. Snorting, the girl continued. "Granted, there are those that would be useless to approach, but I think we should start with the new girl, Calathea."

"But…but she's engaged to _Malfoy_. If we make friends with _her_ , we'll have to make friends with _him_ ," the redhead whined. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him.

"I understand that, but it's a necessary evil if we are to make any headway against You-Know-Who," she answered softly. "Who knows, we may even be able to persuade the prat to be nice to everyone." A loud snort was the only reply Ron favored the girl with. She snickered before continuing. "Now, how to approach her…"

* * *

"Miss Prince, might I have a word?" The familiar voice made Thea's heart jump in her chest, and she took a deep breath before turning to face Hermione Granger. _Merlin,_ she thought, _I've really missed her and Ron._ Hermione's eyes narrowed, and Thea panicked slightly at the suspicion in the other girl's eyes. But Hermione only shook her head, a sad smile on her face. "For a moment there, I thought you were someone else," she said softly, lower lip wobbling slightly. "Our Savior, Harry Potter, has the same colored eyes as you." Thea was about to blurt out everything, when the other girl's words finally made it past the anxiousness. Snapping her mouth closed, her emerald eyes grew icy.

"What do you want, Granger?" Hermione flinched at the harshness, puzzled at the girl's sudden change in demeanor. _She seemed so friendly and eager when she turned around. I wonder what's changed?_ Clearing her throat, Hermione spoke into the tense silence.

"I…I thought maybe we could get to know one another. I'd like to try and put the animosity between your House and mine behind us. I think we should stand together for a common goal."

"And what goal would that be?" Thea asked. "Surely you don't think we'd stand with you against Lord _Voldemort_."

"Well…well, yes, I did. You can't _possibly_ want that monster ruling our world, can you? Right now it may be muggleborns and halfbloods, but who's to say he won't find something wrong with purebloods next and try to exterminate _them_. Professor Dumbledore thinks that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's ultimate goal is world domination, and to do that he'd need to exterminate all the muggles. Even now, your Lord is killing off entire muggle _villages_ …" Tinkling laughter cut the girl off in mid-rant, and she glared angrily at Thea.

"You have no earthly _idea_ what his agenda _really_ is, do you?" the emerald eyed girl asked with great amusement. Hermione opened her mouth to refute that statement, but Thea overrode her. "All you have is Dumbledore's misguided and incorrect rhetoric to go by. Not even _he_ really knows what's going on; he is only aware that our Lord is intent on protecting our world from the potential threat of the muggles. Your precious _Leader of the Light_ is feeding you lies and speculation. He has no concrete proof of _anything_ , yet he doesn't hesitate to slander the Dark Lord to everyone he can, by any means he can. Now, before you come to me with a hand of friendship, I suggest you do your due diligence and _find out the truth_. When you can come to me with concrete evidence, one way or the other, then we'll talk. Good day, Miss Granger." With a slight bow of her head, Calathea turned and walked away, leaving behind a stunned Gryffindor, with many thoughts jumbled in her head.

* * *

"I can't reveal who I truly am to Hermione," she said sadly as she sat curled up in her fiancé's lap. She had come into the common room and went straight for Draco, who was sitting in a comfortable chair by the fire. She looked into his eyes, asking for reassurance, and with a small nod from him, she climbed onto his lap, burying her face in his neck and shivering with suppressed emotion. Draco glanced at Blaise, who had cleared the common room posthaste. He sat on the sofa in front of the fire, with Theo, Daphne, Millie, Greg, Tracey and Vince filling out the rest of the seats. Tracey was informed of Thea's origins, and was included for her protection of the girl in the dorms. Pansy hadn't stopped trying to eliminate what she perceived as her competition, and had incurred numerous injuries from Tracey's interference. Thea was told that his friends knew who she had been, and were willing to accept her because of Draco. As they got to know her, they learned to love her for herself, forgetting more and more often that she used to be Harry Potter.

"What's wrong, sweetness?" Draco asked softly, fingers carding through auburn-streaked ebony locks. With a sigh that seemed to come from her toes, she explained.

"Hermione called to me in the hallway on the fifth floor. I was so nervous and excited. I was hoping that we could continue as if nothing had happened. She recognized my eyes, and spoke of me as the _Savior_. That _hurt_ , so _much_. All this time I thought she liked me for me, when it was only me as the _Savior_ that she wanted. Then she proceeded to tell me the Dumbledore-sanctioned truth about our Lord. I told her that, when she had done suitable enough research, and can come to me with intelligent argument, then maybe we might talk."

"I'm sorry, baby," Draco said, fingers massaging her scalp. "I know how much you wanted to reacquaint yourself with your friends, and it pains me that you will never be able to do that."

"If we provide the documented information that she's looking for, perhaps we can sway her enough to accept what you've done," Blaise said thoughtfully, hating to see one of his favorite people sad. "We can give her intel of which Dumbledore is unaware, with a Wizard's Oath to not tell the old man about it."

"That could work," Draco said softly, his fingers still carding through ebony and auburn locks. Smiling softly, Calathea reached up and brushed a gentle kiss to the blond's jaw, eliciting a lovely blush. Malfoy smiled, silver eyes gleaming, and continued to plot with his friends.

* * *

"Granger," Theo called out, jogging to catch up with the girl. She was on her way to Ancient Runes, a class that Ron would've never been able to struggle through, and Theo caught up with her at the bend in the corridor. She looked at the Slytherin out of the corner of her eye, eyebrow arched in cautious question. "Calathea has told us that you wish to unite the Houses for a common goal." She nodded, not willing to speak. "We can help you decide on which side you wish to be." He pulled out a shrunken file that looked like a fat wad of napkins and handed it to the other girl. Shocked, she took it and tucked it into her pocket, questions in her eyes. Students milled about, on their way to the class, and tried to see what was going on with the Gryffindor girl without looking like they were looking. Theo huffed irritably, glaring at those who weren't so shy about their curiosity.

"Let's take this somewhere more…private," the curly-haired Slytherin said, grasping her elbow gently and guiding her to an empty classroom. Once he'd put up privacy wards, he turned to her and explained. "Those are the files and information that you were looking for, covering the agenda of the Dark Lord. He gave them to me personally, with the assurance that you have complete permission to read and research what's in those papers. However, I require a Wizard's Oath from you right now." Eyes wide, the girl nodded, excited beyond measure at the opportunity she'd just been handed. A thought occurred to her, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously on Theo.

"How do I know that this information is truthful and factual?" she barked. Theo scowled at her high-handed manner, but grit his teeth, remembering _why_ they were doing this in the first place.

"The information is written on Truth Parchment. There's no way that anyone would've been able to write inaccurate information or flat out lie." The chastisement in the Slytherin's voice made Hermione blush and recall her manners. Bowing her head in mute apology, she tried again.

"Thank you for the information, and for the opportunity to learn more about the impetus behind the conflict. I am willing to view everything with an open mind, and put aside all professor Dumbledore has told us so that I can judge everything with as much impartiality as I am capable."

"Fine. Now about that Oath…"

* * *

 _Our informants are providing the information we need to rescue more of the muggleborns that are being abused for their magic. The most serious case at this moment is the worrisome reports about some wizarding children living in an abandoned warehouse. They're being regularly terrorized, and there are rumors that some wish to burn them. They've tried to protect themselves to the best of their abilities, but without formal training, it's all just show without substance. Their accidental magic seems to do the most damage, as it is feeding off of their fear, and it is this that endangers them. Some of the muggles who've witnessed these displays of power are encouraging the bullying. It is mostly teenagers and young adults behind the threats, with some religious zealots fanning the flames. I'm afraid that if we don't act right away, these wizarding children will be lost to us. Their parents have thrown them out, refusing to acknowledge that they exist. I've contacted some muggle-based wizarding organizations, and they are carefully moving toward rescue._

 _Antonin Dolohov_

Hermione set the forms down, her brow puckered in anger. _Why would professor Dumbledore say that the Dark Lord was trying to exterminate muggleborns? These papers are covered with notes and information on rescues and attempted rescues. There are also receipts where the Dark Lord had paid for funerals for the muggleborns that were already exterminated._ She sat back and rubbed her eyes, thinking back to Calathea Prince. _There's more that I need to know. More that she might be able to tell me.  
_

* * *

"Miss Prince? Could we go somewhere and talk?" Hermione asked from behind the girl. They were in the Great Hall, enjoying lunch. Thea jumped slightly at the unexpected voice and turned.

"There's an abandoned classroom on the seventh floor, near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, which Draco has used when he needed to get away from everything and think. We'll meet you there." The Gryffindor nodded and walked away, leaving a puzzled group of Slytherins. Hope bloomed wildly in Thea's heart, and she looked at her betrothed, excitement in her eyes. "She won't object to my having my friends with me, will she? After all, I feel safest with you all near me."

After lunch, the group made their way to the classroom, surprised when they entered to find Ron, Neville and Luna in the room with Hermione. The girl ducked her head, embarrassed, when Theo glared heatedly at her.

"Don't blame her, Nott," the redhead said softly, stepping carefully toward the group of Slytherins. "She left the notes out one day, and I thought they were her Potions homework. I was going to copy from her, but once I started reading, I couldn't stop. I called to Neville, and he read the papers with me. We never knew that the Dark Lord was actually _saving_ the muggleborns and halfbloods. We're here to listen and make an informed decision. We're also here to support Hermione."

"What do you think, Granger?" Calathea asked softly, looking at the Gryffindor girl with hope. The bushy haired girl looked deeply into Thea's emerald eyes and saw the burgeoning hope. Confused by the emotion, she still answered the question.

"I think I need to know more. What are the Dark Lord's plans for the wizarding world? What does he intend to do with the muggleborns and halfbloods he 'rescues' from abusive environments? If the answers satisfy me, how can I help?" Thea and the rest of the Slytherins relaxed, smiling slightly at the girl. A few swishes of their wands later and a comfortable conversation pit was created. Everyone picked a spot, trying to relax in spite of the nervousness that swam in the atmosphere of the room.

"The Dark Lord wishes to keep our world separate from the muggle world. He believes the attempted integration of the two worlds will result in our eventual extermination. He, himself, grew up in a muggle orphanage and was subjected to treatment that no child should have to suffer. To that end, he wishes to remove the muggleborns as soon as they are born, replacing them with orphaned or abandoned muggle babies, and bring those magical children into the wizarding world, ensuring their complete integration. He wants to remove the muggle parents of the halfbloods, and obliviate the magical parents, erasing memories of the relationship. If the magical parents refuse to give up their muggle spouse, the halfblood child will be taken and the magical parent's magic bound. The magical parent will also be sterilized to prevent future halfblood births," Draco rattled off quickly. Before Hermione could object to the information, as her face reflected her horror, Thea picked up the narrative.

"The muggleborn and halfblood babies brought to the wizarding world will be placed with willing pureblood families. The children will be sponsored by these families, and raised as wizards and witches. They will learn of our traditions and our ways, and will be educated from a young age in our customs and laws. You need to understand that, the more magical births that occur outside our protections, the greater risk of discovery of our world, and eventual extermination.

"The Dark Lord believes that these new witches and wizards will bring fresh blood and a new perspective to our world. They will help us to stop inbreeding ourselves to extinction, and will strengthen our magic. By our raising them, the purebloods will learn that they have absolutely nothing to fear from the muggleborns and halfbloods, and that they should be cherished for the miracles they are."

"H-He Who Must Not Be Named thinks I'm a _miracle_?" Hermione asked tremulously.

"He does," Blaise answered softly. "He knows that the magic you and other muggleborns have been gifted with is truly miraculous. Whether it is a mutation of some kind, or a long-dead ancestor's blood reawakening, you are special for the magic you have. He believes that all magical children are special, but that muggleborns are _especially_ special because their magic wasn't directly passed down to them. It's almost as if it's _fresh_ magic, granted when it's most needed." Ron smiled at his girlfriend proudly, making the muggleborn blush to the roots of her hair. Turning, he looked at Thea thoughtfully.

"Why are _you_ so interested in making us understand and accept the Dark Lord's agenda?" he asked curiously. He, too, had seen the wild hope in the other girl's eyes. Draco looked into the frank blue eyes, his own silver narrowed in thought before coming to a decision.

"The holidays are nearly here," the blond said briskly. "I would like to invite you lot to the Manor for the Yule break. If you can, bring some of the other Gryffindors that would be willing to listen to reason. Maybe some from the other Houses would like to come, as well. We have a lot to discuss, and secrets to share."

* * *

"Are you sure that was _wise_ , Draco?" Blaise asked, looking at the Prince of Slytherin. Thea was also looking at her fiancé, eyes wide.

"As you know, I'm pants at Legilimency," the blond answered diffidently. "Weasley, however, is very nearly an open book. When I looked into his thoughts, all I saw was a genuine curiosity, and an open willingness to put aside our differences for a common goal. I don't think it will be a mistake to let them know what's going on." At that moment, Pansy approached, the heavy glamours barely hiding the scars and ruin that was her face.

"Draco? May I speak with you please?" she slurred softly, not meeting anyone's eyes. The extensive damage to her face had also interfered with her ability to speak clearly, so she had to speak slowly and softly to be understood. The blond looked at his fiancée for a moment, eyebrow raised. She nodded, smiling slightly, and he turned back to Parkinson.

"This way, Pansy," he said softly, keeping a proper distance from the girl as he led the way to an alcove. He put up privacy wards and waited for her to sit before taking a seat himself. "What can I do for you?" There was a tense silence for a few moments before the girl opened her mouth.

"I'd…I'd like to apologize to you and your fiancée for all of the trouble and pain I'd tried to cause," she said softly, never looking at Draco. The blond raised an eyebrow, his silence encouraging her to continue. "I didn't realize that your bond to her was so deep or strong. Your parents owled me a couple of weeks ago and explained the situation between you and Calathea. They told me that you'd been promised to her for the last six years, and that you and she are soul mates. I didn't mean to interfere with that sort of bond, and I'm sorry." Draco had to hold in his laughter at the deft way his parents had made the girl back off, so it was a few seconds before he could answer.

"On behalf of my fiancée and myself, we accept your apology." He paused as he looked at her with sorrow. "I never wanted it to come to this, Pans," he continued sadly. "I've always considered you one of my truly good friends. It was ridiculous to allow your wishes to interfere with that friendship, and I'm afraid I also must apologize for encouraging you in that way. I didn't think you'd continue to pursue me when we got older, and did nothing to dissuade you from that line of thinking. I am just as responsible for what happened to you as you are."

"No, Draco, I am completely responsible for this," she said, glancing up at him through her lashes. "I _knew_ that we weren't ever going to get married. I was just surprised and upset that you hadn't felt the need to talk your engagement over with _me_ first. We always shared _everything_ , and I was deeply offended that you'd decided to keep this _monumentally huge_ secret to yourself. I understand _why_ , but that didn't make it hurt any less."

"I'm sorry, Pans," he said sheepishly. "I guess I didn't think about you or anyone else. I just…well…" He paused before making a decision. "You are invited to the Manor for Yule. I won't take _no_ for an answer, and I will have a _spectacular_ surprise waiting for you."


	4. Part Four

**Saving the Savior**

 **Part Four**

"When are we getting married, Draco?" Calathea asked softly, snuggling more deeply into Draco's side. The blond pulled her closer, arm wrapped securely around her waist. The pair were alone in the train car for the moment, the others off to touch base with the students from the other Houses that would be attending the Manor's festivities. Pansy hadn't wanted to face anyone, so she had secured a compartment to herself, hiding her badly damaged face from everyone. It was hard going through the school with the scars barely hidden; she was using the break on the train to gather her flagging courage. This would be the first time her parents would see her since the incident, and she was afraid that they'd turn her out for her ravaged appearance.

Slender fingers carded through auburn-streaked ebon locks as Draco leaned his head on the girl's. "I thought we'd get married while we're at the Manor for the holidays," he said softly. "Everyone I love will be there to help us celebrate, and some of your friends will be there as well. Besides, I don't want to wait until after graduation to claim you." Suddenly, he found arms wrapped tightly around his neck and a face burrowed in his shoulder as the girl shivered with joy, blushing heatedly at the promise in his voice. He pulled her tighter into himself, encouraging her to straddle him to make the embrace more comfortable. She settled on his lap, her face buried in his neck as she breathed in his exotic scent. For a time there was silence in the car as the teens enjoyed the peace of the moment.

Calathea eventually pulled back, looking deeply into her fiancé's eyes before leaning forward and sealing her lips to his. Until this moment, they'd been most circumspect, staying within the strict rules of pureblood courting rituals, but her excitement at her impending nuptials had the girl throwing propriety out the window. She shivered as Draco's tongue instantly ran along her full lower lip, and she opened to him, sighing at the first taste of his mouth. Draco's body was overcome with shudders as he finally, _finally_ tasted his fiancée for the first time. The desire to kiss her had been with him since _before_ he'd taken her to the Dark Lord, but, since she was Harry Potter at the time, it wasn't acted on. That was the only time Draco could _ever_ remember actually _wishing_ he weren't straight. The wait, however, was well worth it as he savored the spicy flavor that made up his fiancée.

Thea moved closer, trying to bury herself within Draco's skin, shivering every time his hands ran up or down her back. She squirmed on his lap, and he moaned heatedly, startling a blush from her as she felt his physical response to her closeness. The dim, faraway part of her that used to be Harry Potter snorted its amusement, and she shoved that part of her away. It had been getting smaller and smaller as she grew used to being Thea, and, with that last barrier broken, it finally faded away. At that moment the compartment door slid open, startling the pair, and quiet snickers greeted them.

"Look at that," Blaise said softly, amusement in his voice. "Leave you two alone for a minute and you try to _ravish_ the poor girl." Thea blushed to the roots of her hair, burying her hot face in Draco's neck as the blond chuckled in her ear.

"What can I say," he replied, tightening his hold on her. "She's so _edible_."

* * *

Their arrival at the Manor was boisterous as the Slytherins were finally relaxed enough to let their hair down behind closed doors. Ron observed their behavior with amusement in his eyes, and he wrapped an arm around Hermione, his heart feeling lighter than it had for a long time. He still missed his friend horribly, but figured that, if Harry were out there somewhere, he'd show up sooner or later. When he did, Ron felt he'd have enough allies in the school to support whatever decision the raven made about the wizarding world and the war. A loud clap startled everyone, and they turned to their host.

"Mixey, please escort everyone to their assigned suites," Draco said softly. The house elf bowed enthusiastically and, taking the lead, guided everyone up the stairs and to their rooms. Pansy took up the rear, and as she started to walk away, Draco's hand wrapped around her wrist, halting her. She looked enquiringly at the blond, but he just winked, entwining his hand with hers, since she was one of his oldest friends, and with his other arm around his fiancée's waist, he led the heavily scarred girl to another room in the house. As they stepped through the door, Pansy froze at the sight of her parents standing next to the Dark Lord. Instantly, she was on her knees, her head bowed.

"Rise, child, and come here," Voldemort commanded softly. Shaking, Pansy rose to her feet and shuffled closer, eyes on the floor. "Draco contacted me about the confrontation you had with his fiancée in the Slytherin girls' dorm. Under normal circumstances, I would let you continue to suffer for your foolishness; however, as your parents are two of my most devoted associates, and young Draco is to be my apprentice, I felt that his request under the circumstances was acceptable." Waving his wand, he transfigured the sofa in front of him into a medical cot. "Please lie on this and make yourself comfortable. I have some Unspeakable Healers here who have been researching injuries due to curses, and they've come up with a fairly comprehensive treatment." Eagerly, the girl did as asked, nervous and excited for the first time since the incident that had injured her face had occurred. Movement from the shadowy corners had everyone startling for a moment, before Draco and his fiancée left the room, allowing the people inside their privacy.

"That was remarkably kind of you, Draco," Thea said as the pair made their way to their suite of rooms. Once the betrothal contract had been signed, Thea was moved into Draco's wing. They had a bedroom made up for her, but from the second night, when the blond was an unexpected witness to the night terrors the girl suffered, they slept in the same bed. Draco had tried to get the girl to talk out her nightmares, but she refused, pushing them away to the back of her mind. On this visit, Draco had arranged for a Mind Healer, as well as the Healers for Pansy.

"I feel like it's my fault she ended up so badly injured," he answered softly. "When we were kids, we used to talk about all the things we'd do once we got married. We planned the ceremony and looked at where we'd live. We even talked about how many _kids_ we'd have. As far as I was concerned, it was just _talk._ I really didn't expect her to take it so seriously. When we got to Hogwarts, and I was around you all the time, I realized what I wanted in a mate. I wanted someone with your fire, your passion, and your courage. Someone who wouldn't hesitate to stand at my side, helping me and protecting me as I helped and protected them. It's funny, but I never really put much stock in fate; never thought that there'd be someone out there that was just absolutely _perfect_ for me. Then you came along, and we became friends, and you came here and _surrendered_ in the single bravest, most selfless act I've ever seen, and I couldn't deny it anymore. I've loved you since I was eleven; I just didn't know it then."

* * *

Hermione stepped toward the distinguished man standing at the head of the table, her eyes down as she held the files in her hands with something like reverence. She stopped a couple feet away from him and bowed her head with respect. "Thank you, sir, for allowing me to see into the inner workings of your organization, and for learning of your goals for our world." She handed the files back to Riddle, who smiled and thanked the girl.

"What did you think, Miss Granger?" he asked softly.

"I think that Albus Dumbledore is woefully misguided," she said after a short pause. "I don't know if the information he disseminates is what he believes, or if it's just smoke and mirrors, used to encourage the continuing fight."

"Albus Dumbledore only sees the good in all people," Tom answered softly. "He's really one of the most brilliant wizards to have ever been born, and I think that all that lofty thinking has robbed him of his perspective. He wants so badly to believe that all people have the potential for good; who knows, maybe he's right. However, human nature being what it is, the fear of the unknown and the different causes us to lose sight of the one simple truth; we are all the same under the skin. We all bleed, breathe, grieve, celebrate, love, lose, give birth, grow old and die. Our differences are merely skin deep."

* * *

"Ron? Hermione? May we have a word?" Draco asked as he approached the Gryffindor couple. They smiled and nodded, following Thea and Draco to their suite. A house elf had prepared a private lunch for the four of them, and they sat around the small table situated on the balcony. From where they sat, they could see the lawns and gardens, covered with a pristine blanket of snow. The balcony was protected by house elf warming charms, so the two couples could enjoy the view without the cold.

"Mmm," Ron sighed happily, rubbing his hands together at the banquet before him. Everyone selected a plate and filled it with all of their favorites, and nothing was heard for a while but the scraping of silverware against plates, and an occasional hum of pleasure. Finally, their hunger sated for a time, Draco invited the Gryffindors back into the sitting room, where both couples perched on loveseats facing each other. Tea and butterbeer was sitting on the low table between the small sofas, and Ron leaned forward, snagging a bottle. Thea was too nervous for anything; she and Hermione declined refreshments.

"There are some things I need to tell you," Calathea started hesitantly, looking at her best friends nervously. "I ask that you wait until I've finished before you say anything." At the twin nods, the former Savior launched into her tale, starting from when she first started meeting with Draco until the present moment. She left nothing out, and by the time she was finished, Hermione's eyes were filled with horror. Ron was scowling at his former best mate angrily.

"How could you?" he finally barked, face red. "We've looked _everywhere_ for you. We were so _worried_. We thought a Death Eater had gotten you; that you were in some dank, dark dungeon somewhere, being tortured. What the hell, mate?"

"I…I'm sorry, Ron," the girl mumbled, eyes on her hands. Draco could feel her disappointment and pain, and glared angrily at the redhead, making Ron jerk back and rein in his own temper. "I never meant to make anyone worry. But you have to understand; there was _no way_ I would've defeated Tom. He's got _decades_ of experience over me, and his magical strength is phenomenal. He would've wiped the floor with me, and slaughtered thousands to achieve his goals. This way, the war was stopped before it had a chance to really get started. Besides, I was so _tired_ of all the training. The pressure to be something I _wasn't_. I'm no _Savior_ ; I'm just a teenager who wants a life of her own. Is that so wrong?"

"Oh, Ha-Calathea," Hermione murmured, voice thick with unshed tears, "of _course_ we understand. We saw what the wizarding world's expectations were doing to you. We saw how _tired_ you were when you came back from training with the Order. You barely had time for _classwork_. We even went to talk to professor Dumbledore about all the extra work you'd been given. He just waved us off, acting like your welfare was unimportant, compared to the Greater Good."

"I was only ever a weapon to him, 'Mione," Thea replied, looking at her very best friend with renewed hope. "A means to an end. He felt perfectly justified in treating me the way he did, because he failed to see me as a _person_."

"Merlin, mate," Ron said, stunned. "No _wonder_ you took the steps you did. I probably would've too, if I were in your shoes."

"I doubt that, Ron," Hermione teased. "After all, you've always wanted to be in the spotlight. I think you would've _excelled_ as the Savior."

"Well, yeah," the redhead agreed, chest puffed out. "Some of us were just _born_ for greatness."

* * *

" _Pansy?_ Is that _you?_ " Theo breathed, eyes wide on the Slytherin girl. The Unspeakables had worked miracles with her injuries, and she was a new woman. They couldn't make her look as she once did after they were able to remove the curse scars; the underlying structures of her face were too damaged. So they called in some specialist Healers, who had reconstructed her face. Gone was the pug look; instead, she looked like a goddess. Her skin was a creamy, smooth alabaster, with a straight, small button nose. Her eyes now seemed wider apart, since her nose wasn't as large as it used to be, and it gave her face a more appealing symmetry. Her hair had remained undamaged; however, because of the pain and anguish she had suffered, there were now streaks of stark white in her hair, giving her a more vampish appearance. Her lips took on a full, sultry look, and were naturally a dark red. Deep brown eyes sparkled happily at Theo's reaction, and she jumped a mile in the air with a squeak when Blaise came up behind her.

"You look wonderful," he whispered in her ear, making her blush becomingly. Theo's eyes narrowed dangerously on the dark-skinned Italian, a snarl curling his lips. Pansy saw the look, eyebrows rising in surprise, and a small, pleased smile spread across her mouth. Blaise also noticed the look, and he arched a brow in challenge at the shorter Slytherin. Theo nodded his head in acknowledgment; game _on_. Head high, Nott stalked from the library, intent on beginning his courting of the renewed girl, while Blaise escorted her to a chair, a flirty gleam in his dark eyes. _This is going to be so much_ _ **fun**_ , Pansy thought to herself with glee. _I can't_ _ **wait**_ _to see how this all turns out. This is going to be a new experience for me, and I have Draco and our Lord to thank for this.  
_

* * *

"I am glad to see everyone here," Tom said as he stood from the large dining table. All of his inner circle were present, with their wives and children; friends and acquaintances of both Calathea and Draco were also in attendance. It was to be a celebration of Yule, but also a celebration of new beginnings. "I have a few announcements to make. Consider them _Yule_ presents, if you will." He turned to Lucius and Narcissa, glass raised. "Since making Lucius Malfoy Minister of Magic, the Ministry has run like a well-oiled machine. His grace and intelligence has brought an honor to the British wizarding world that we'd lacked for a very long time. As well, his wife's deft handling of all of the social commitments and galas has elevated our small part of the wizarding world to new heights. Through her, we have been able to secure trade agreements with a variety of magical and muggle communities, and she has been instrumental in easing the way for our meetings with the various magical creatures, both Light and Dark.

"It is with pride that I am announcing that their son, Draco, will become my apprentice. He will learn all he needs to become the International Minister of Magic. I intend for our 'guidance' to go global, and Draco will be the new face of the wide wizarding world." Glasses were raised, and a chorus of 'hear, hear' resounded around the table as everyone agreed with the Dark Lord's assessment. Beaming, Draco bowed his head and graciously accepted the position. Riddle then turned to the Parkinsons.

"Joseph Parkinson has exhibited a quick, sharp intellect, and has worked well with Lucius in the Ministry. To that end, I have created a new position, of which Joseph will take his place. He will be the Assistant Minister of Magic, and will take Lucius' place when he decides to step down. No longer will the positions be voted on; instead, one of our own, who will be extensively vetted first, will take the vacated positions, and work their way up through the Ministry. Only by hard work and merit will any of you achieve any positions of power. No longer will money or blackmail choose the next Minister, or fill the other positions in the Ministry; those days are over. Be warned, however; should you, in any way, do or say anything that damages our credibility or prevents our advancements, you _will_ suffer the consequences.

"His lovely wife, Estelle, will be made Chief Witch of the Wizengamot. She has obtained a law degree in both the muggle and wizarding universities, and is well-versed in international as well as national law. Teodred Nott and Fabian Zabini will be her assistant Chiefs. I expect that any laws proposed to them, or proposed _by_ them, will be fair, impartial and beneficial to _all_ wizard kind." Another round of cheers went up, Pansy's face flushed with pride at the newly elevated status of her parents.

"I will offer the opportunity for all of my associates to further their educations, if that is what they wish. You all will be given a chance to explore different avenues of knowledge and skill, so that you may select something that not only suits you, but will advance our cause and our organization within the wizarding world. Additionally, those of you who wish to be our voices in the muggle world will be given that opportunity without censure. As everyone knows, we are making every effort to try and help the muggleborns that are in desperate straits. Unfortunately, we are unable to save _all_ of them; however, even _one_ precious magical child, rescued from certain death, is worth every effort we have put in so far. So I will need liaisons to the muggle world, to help us find and rescue these victims of circumstance, and to help us develop our trade with the muggle world.

"Though our two worlds are very different, we both have common goals, survival being the most important. Our Potions Master has volunteered to take the best and brightest, of both pureblood and muggleborn, and utilize their talents to create potions that would help the muggles eradicate diseases that they've been dealing with for decades. We cannot help them with _all_ of their ills; however, some of their more pernicious diseases could benefit from our finest minds working on cures that will not harm the muggles. If we show that we are willing to share some of our skills with them, perhaps they will be willing to share some of their technologies with us. Of course, we cannot let on that we are in any way magical; that has to remain hidden as much as possible. But, with a good dose of _creative deception_ , we will be able to help them survive and live happier, more fulfilling lives."

* * *

"Thea?" Hermione asked softly. "Can we talk?" The raven nodded and led the muggleborn to one of the smaller libraries in the Manor. They took seats opposite each other, and the silence grew as Hermione tried to find the right words to start the conversation. Finally, huffing out a sigh of impatience at herself, she blurted out what was on her mind. "Why Malfoy? How did that even come _about_? Are you sure about this?"

Thea smiled softly at the protective vibe coming from her best friend, and said, "Why _not_ Draco? He and I have been involved with each other since we were eleven. Granted, we really disliked each other at first, or at least, we _thought_ we did. I think, after Draco's initial arrogance, I began to see the scared, nervous little boy behind the façade, and it _appealed_ to me. I believe, after second year and the Chamber of Secrets incident, the confrontations between us became a sort of _game_. I suppose he realized that life, for me, wasn't as easy as he'd been led to believe, and our behaviors toward each other began to shift.

"As for how we got to this point, well, we had been meeting in that abandoned classroom on the seventh floor all of sixth year, and had gotten to know each other much better. We talked out our differences, and became really good friends. I found myself falling in love with him, and wishing that he were gay. When Dumbledore told me the prophecy in fifth year, after Sirius had died, I was enraged. After all that time, and all the deaths, I was finally told why Tom was after me. So one night, after a particularly brutal training session, I went to the abandoned classroom to think. I didn't want to be a part of the war effort anymore. I was so _tired_. So _beaten down_. I just wanted it to be _over._ I got to thinking about the prophecy again, and how to end it without fighting, and it occurred to me. What if, I thought, I wasn't the Savior anymore. What if I could end the prophecy by changing _myself_. I kept going over it in my mind, and realized that the only way to end the mess, was to change my gender. If I was no longer a _he_ , then the prophecy would be nullified. It was at that point that Draco came into the classroom, and the rest just…fell into place."

"I wish you would've come to us," Hermione said sadly. "We would've done anything to help you."

"I know," Thea replied, eyes down, "but I didn't want to face the anger or ridicule Ron would've given me for my choice." Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to protest the other girl's characterization of Weasley, but Thea raised her hand, forestalling any words. "You know he would've gone ballistic, Hermione. Ron's temper is even more legendary than _mine_ , and he always speaks before he thinks. He would've called me all sorts of names, and would've turned his back on me for my choices." Sadly, Hermione acknowledged the truth of the raven's words. Silence fell for another few moments, until Thea finally asked, "Was…was I only ever the S-savior to you?"

The muggleborn's mouth fell open in shock at the question, cinnamon eyes wide. "No!" she barked out, deeply offended. "Why would you even _think_ that?"

"Because, that first time you came to talk to me, you told me that my eyes were the same color as the _Savior's_ ," Thea bit out angrily, still very wounded at the thoughtlessly spoken comment. "You have _no idea_ how much that _hurt_ , to realize that you only thought of me as the _Savior_."

"Oh, _Harry_ ," Hermione murmured, then gasped, hands flying to her mouth in horror at her slip. "I'm sorry," the muggleborn quickly blurted out, face red. "I didn't mean that. It's still a lot to take in all at once." Thea nodded stiffly, face a blank mask. The look hurt Hermione's heart, and she reached out to take the other girl's hand, trying to soothe the pain she had unwittingly inflicted. "You know that I have a great deal of difficulty dealing with people," the muggleborn continued, eyes on their linked hands. "Books are easier to understand; no emotions to get all tangled up in things, no illogical outbursts to confuse things. People are contradictory and confusing and illogical. When I approached you about a common goal for all of the Houses, I wasn't thinking of anything but trying to save as many people from Voldemort as possible. I wanted to protect those in Slytherin who didn't _want_ to be a part of the war.

"Your eyes shocked me; they reminded me of Harry so much that I just blurted out the first thing that popped into my head. I have never seen Harry Potter… _you_ …as anything other than the best friend I've ever had. Your status in the wizarding world only served to irritate me; there was no way that any of us close to you, but _especially_ you, could ever have any sort of peace. Ron and I talked about it once. We both agreed that, should things get to be too much for you, that we would take you away from it all, and hide you somewhere, just so that you could have a little peace, before you lost your sanity completely." Hermione found herself in a heartfelt hug, tears wetting her shoulder. She hugged the other girl back just as hard, a wide smile on her face. "We would do _anything_ for you, Thea. We _love_ you."

"I love you guys, too," the raven whispered back.


	5. Part Five

**Saving the Savior**

 **Part Five**

"Thea?" Draco said softly as he came into their shared suite. The girl was sitting at the vanity, staring at herself with confused emerald eyes. She started slightly at the sound of his voice, turning to him with a blush. "Is everything all right? You seemed a little… _lost_ for a moment."

"Yeah," she responded huskily. "I was just thinking about what my life would have been like, had I not taken this step. I don't think I would've ever found true happiness, had I not decided to surrender. I probably would've _died_ , trying to save the wizarding world from the one being who would've actually _saved_ it. And my friends…they would've been _lost_ to me. _Forever_. You, finding me in that abandoned classroom, marked the beginning of my _real_ life. I don't think I've _ever_ loved anyone as much as I love _you_."

"I love you, too," the Slytherin Prince rejoined with a smile, silver eyes glowing happily. He walked over to her and pulled her from the bench she was perched upon and into his arms, hugging her tightly, his heart beating with joy. "Tomorrow we become Lord and Lady Malfoy. Are you ready?"

"More than ready," she murmured, snuggling into her fiancé with a sigh of contentment. "Aren't your parents Lord and Lady Malfoy, though?"

"No," he said. "Once I marry, I become the new Lord of the family, and my wife becomes the new Lady. Father will become Sire Malfoy, and Mother will become Dame Malfoy."

"Ah," the raven replied in comprehension. They were quiet for a time, just enjoying holding each other, but then Draco began to shift a little nervously, which set Thea's nerves on edge. "Is there something on your mind, Draco?" she finally asked, pulling back to look into his eyes.

"There is," he murmured, hand coming up to stroke his bride-to-be's cheek. "I want to talk to you about your nightmares." Instantly, Calathea pulled away, eyes down, and walked to the sofa situated in front of the fireplace. Draco followed, sitting beside her and pulling her into his side. "You need to talk about them," he continued. "I've witnessed you going through one already, and I can only imagine how much worse others may be. I don't want there to be _anything_ that makes you unhappy, and these nightmares make you very unhappy."

"I'm always cornered," she began without preamble. "There's no way out for me, and Vernon and Dudley are in front of me. They have knives and clubs and other things, and they begin beating and cutting me. They don't intend to kill me; they just want to torture me for merely existing. I can never escape, and my friends are always there, watching. They don't lift a finger to help me, and I'm angry with them a little bit more for never coming to my rescue when I needed them the most. Sometimes, your father, mother, and you are there also, egging them on. In the end, Dumbledore makes his appearance, and he always tells me 'it's for the Greater Good, my boy'. That's when I wake up, and I usually end up sobbing into my pillow, so that I don't disturb the rest of my dorm mates. The nightmare never changes. It's always the same, every night. When I wake up, I can't go back to sleep anymore, so I usually end up wandering around the school until it's time to get ready for classes."

"Oh, Thea," Draco murmured, hugging her tightly. "I had no idea. How long have you been having them?"

"They started when I was eight. Up until then, my punishments were usually just being locked in the cupboard without food. When I reached eight, Vernon thought it would be a good idea to start trying to beat the magic out of me. I could never get away. There was nowhere for me to go, and no one to come and help me. When I got to Hogwarts, I thought that finally someone would help me. I tried to tell Hermione and Ron, but they didn't seem to want to hear it. It was always about our adventures, or Voldemort. They were always making plans for how we would defeat the Dark Lord and free the wizarding world. I stopped trying after a while."

"Did you tell the headmaster?"

"I did, but he always told me to stop exaggerating. That it wasn't that bad. That the Dursleys were perfectly nice, normal, respectable people and that I should stop trying to make trouble for them. Sometimes he'd tell me that I needed to stop doing whatever it was that was making them punish me. That would mean that I would have to stop living, because that was why they were punishing me. For living, and for living with _them_. So I stopped going to Dumbledore, too. With nowhere to turn, and no one who cared enough to help, I began to withdraw into myself. I was going through the motions; trying to be the perfect 'savior' while I continued to die inside."

"I'm so sorry, sweetness," Draco whispered brokenly, voice rough with unshed tears. "I never meant to cause you such anguish with my attitudes or my behavior."

"It wasn't _you_ , Draco," she insisted. "The you and your family in my dreams was a representation of _everyone_ ; everyone who ignored my cries for help, or pushed me aside, or swept my problems under the figurative rug. You were always _honest_ with me; always upfront with your disdain. You never treated me as something special or _better_. Then we got to know each other, and I got to know your family, and the dream changed. You and Lucius and Narcissa no longer show up; now it's the rest of the wizarding world, in the form of newspaper reporters; especially Skeeter."

"I've asked a Mind Healer to come to the Manor after our wedding. Will you see him?"

"Will it make you happy?" she asked softly.

"Anything that helps you, and makes you feel better will make me happy," he replied. "I only ever want your happiness, always."

"Okay," she finally whispered.

* * *

"Ron. Hermione. Might I have a word with you?" Draco asked as he came upon the couple the following day. It was several hours before the wedding, and Narcissa was getting the final arrangements in place. Nodding, the couple followed the blond to a library, where they sat down in sofas facing each other. Draco was silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. Finally he took a deep breath and dived in. "I want to talk to you about Thea's fears." Red and brown eyebrows shot into hairlines in surprise. "She has horrific nightmares; she's had them since she was eight. They involve her disgusting relatives and their treatment of her, and you and Ron have featured in them fairly prominently since she started Hogwarts, Hermione. I have a Mind Healer coming to the Manor after the wedding, and Thea has asked me to ask if the two of you would attend the meeting with her. She wants you to hear what she has to say."

"O-okay," Hermione stuttered, while Ron just nodded hesitantly. "Could…could you tell us what's going to be said?"

"No," the blond said flatly. "You will find out at the meeting. Now, she has also asked me to ask you if you would serve as a bridesmaid, along with Pansy and Luna. Ron, I want you to be one of my groomsmen, along with Blaise and Theo. My mother will be Thea's matron of honor, and my father will be my best man. Tom Riddle has been asked to give Thea away, and he has gladly accepted."

"I would love to be a bridesmaid," Hermione replied with a smile.

"Yeah, mate," Ron concurred. "I'd be honored to be one of your groomsmen."

* * *

The center of the gardens at Malfoy Manor was filled with everyone who had come to the mansion for Yule. The house elves had gone all out, clearing the area of all the snow and putting up a containment bubble, which held in the heat from the warming charms. Though it was winter, the section of the garden that had been cleared was blooming with all manner of roses and lilacs, lilies and snapdragons, narcissi and carnations, pansies and daisies. The path that Thea and Tom were to walk was coated in crushed mother of pearl, imported from the Greek isles. At the head of the aisle, where the bride and groom were to stand, was a round dais of deep mahogany, on which Elder Astradeus stood, waiting to perform the ceremony. He was a Druid elder, from a sect that had been hidden for centuries. He had come at the special request of Tom Riddle, who had been taken on as an apprentice at one time long ago.

The bridesmaids were dressed in identical soft lavender silk robes, with matching elbow-length kid gloves. They each wore a lavender pillbox hat, with a small nude veil attached. They carried bouquets of calla lilies and stood to the left of the officiate. The groomsmen wore black silk formal robes, with a calla lily as a boutonniere. Narcissa, as matron of honor, wore a lilac silk robe with a flounce, gathered at the waist to create skirts. She also wore elbow-length lilac kid gloves. Her bouquet was white tea roses and baby's breath. Lucius, as best man, wore a dark grey formal robe with a fine white pinstripe. He had a silk cravat in lilac, and a boutonniere of white tea roses. Everyone in the audience was dressed in their formal best, and there were reporters from the three most influential newspapers in attendance, also.

The wedding march began, and the flower girls started down the aisle. They were three Slytherin first years, invited to the wedding, along with their families, because Lucius owed their fathers a favor. Being seen in the wedding of the century would elevate the status of the three families, and give them a stronger standing in the wizarding world. They were old pureblood families, but due to mismanagement of their estates, they had fallen on hard times. This would turn things around for them. They, too, were wearing lavender silk dress robes, which they would be able to keep after the ceremony. Thea thought it would be a suitable gift to them for participating. They scattered pink and red rose petals along the path for the bride, while Draco stood with his groomsmen and his father. The blond was dressed in a black tuxedo-style formal robe, with a white shirt underneath. Diamond cufflinks sparkled in the sunshine, and a spray of white tea roses and calla lilies adorned his lapel. The ring bearer was the little brother of Blaise, who wore a dark grey dress robe, with a yellow tea rose as a boutonniere, and on the lavender pillow he carried two wedding rings. They were platinum, with a setting of diamonds surrounding a center stone. On the groom's ring, the center stone was a sapphire. On the bride's ring, the center stone was an emerald.

Finally, at the end of the aisle stood Tom and Thea. Tom was dressed in a white formal robe, with a black button down shirt underneath. His boutonniere was a single black rose, and he had the biggest smile anyone had ever seen on his face. Thea was dressed in white wedding robes, made of satin and gathered at the waist. Petticoats were under the skirt portion of the robes, giving them a fullness that flattered her figure and gave her a more traditional, old-fashioned look. Her bouquet was calla lilies, white and yellow tea roses and baby's breath, with a single black rose dead center. She had a crown of yellow tea roses and baby's breath, which held the white veil in place. As she and Tom slowly marched down the aisle, everyone turned and watched, inhaling in shock at the beauty of the young woman as she happily made her way to her beloved. The radiance that shone from her face told everyone present how much she loved the man she was about to marry. Glancing toward the groom, more than one person had to mask their laughter. Blaise had a firm hold of the back of Draco's robes, keeping him in place as the blond fairly vibrated with anticipation for his bride.

Thea finally reached her mate, smiling blindingly at him. "Who gives this young woman's hand in marriage?" the Elder asked solemnly.

Tom cleared his throat, and carefully placed her hand in Draco's. "I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, give this young woman's hand in marriage." He lifted the veil a little and brushed a gentle, fatherly kiss to Thea's cheek. "You're beautiful," he whispered huskily, eyes gleaming gently at her. "Welcome to our family." She smiled, tears making their way down her cheeks as she turned to face the officiate.

"We are gathered here to witness the eternity bond between Calathea Daisy Prince and Draco Lucius Malfoy. If there is anyone present who knows of a reason why these two people should not be bonded life partners, speak now, or forever hold your peace." There was absolute silence; not even breathing could be heard as everyone waited to see if someone would ruin the ceremony. After a few moments passed, Elder Astradeus continued. "Do you, Calathea Daisy Prince, take this man to be your bonded life mate; to cherish above all others; to support and love him in good times and bad, in sickness and health, until the worlds end?"

"I do," she whispered, trembling.

"Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take this woman to be your bonded life mate; to cherish above all others; to support and love her in good times and bad, in sickness and health, until the worlds end?"

"I do," he rasped huskily.

"You may now present the rings," the elder intoned, holding out his hand. The ring bearer held out the pillow, and Draco picked up the emerald for Thea, while she took the sapphire for him. The elder turned to Draco first. "Place the ring on her finger and repeat after me: With this ring, I bind thee to me, to be mine until time ends."

"With this ring, I bind thee to me, to be mine until time ends," Draco repeated as he slid the ring on her left ring finger. The elder then turned to Calathea.

"With this ring, I bind thee to me, to be mine until time ends." She repeated it, sliding the ring onto Draco's left ring finger. A soft white glow encompassed the couple, and they shivered as the gentle magic blessed their union. Elder Astradeus turned the pair to the waiting families and friends. "I now present Lord and Lady Malfoy."

* * *

"Hello, Lady Malfoy," the Mind Healer said with a small bow. "I am Healer Asmodroth, brought here by your husband to discuss some recurring nightmares that you are having." He turned to Ron and Hermione, his eyes cold. "I understand that you wished to have witnesses. Normally, this is not done, as the only people to be with the patient are immediate family. Your husband explained to me the reasons you wish these two persons to attend, and I will accept that for now. However," he narrowed his eyes and spoke directly to Ron and Hermione, "should either one of you interfere in the session, or in some way cause my patient any more pain, you will be removed. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, Healer," Hermione murmured, eyes dropping to the floor. Ron only nodded, his eyes showing his discomfort and uncertainty. Both Gryffindors had the feeling that this session would be rather painful for all concerned.

"Very well. Please be seated and we will get started." Once everyone had settled, the Mind Healer tuned out the extra persons and concentrated all of his attention on Thea. "Now, Lady Malfoy, let us begin." Before he could continue, Thea spoke up, voice trembling slightly.

"Please call me Thea. This isn't a formal situation, and you're about to be privy to some very painful revelations. Formality isn't welcome here right now."

"Indeed," Asmodroth murmured with a nod. "Now, please describe your nightmares to me. Leave no detail out; I must have as much information as possible if I am to help you." Hesitantly, Thea began, describing every detail of the recurring dream and ignoring the quiet gasps and flinches from her friends as they listened to their complicity in their friend's pain. Finally, after what seemed like hours but was only about forty-five minutes, her words ran dry, tear tracks marking her cheeks. The Healer sat back and considered all he had been told, watching Weasley and Granger from the corner of his eye and gauging their reactions to Lady Malfoy's disclosure.

"The abuse was ongoing, from the moment you were placed with your mother's muggle relatives. Is that correct?"

"Y-yes," Thea responded. "For the first few years, it was just being locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and the withholding of food. After I turned eight, it became physical and brutal."

"Did they ever tell you _why_ they treated you this way?"

"They…they s-said it was be-because I w-was a fr-freak. Be-because my p-parents went a-and got them-themselves k-killed, l-leaving m-my freakish s-self with th-them."

"Why were you a freak?"

"Be-because I have m-magic. I wasn't like nor-normal people."

"In the dream, your friends stood there and watched as you were tortured by your relatives. They did nothing to help you. Why is that?"

"It's how I felt," she whispered, not looking at her friends. "I…I thought when I got to the wizarding world, that I would have friends that would support me, and help me if I needed it. After I became good friends with R-Ron and Her-Hermione, I tried to tell them what was going on at home. They never seemed to want to hear it. The subject always came back to how I would save the wizarding world, and how they'd help me do that." The Gryffindors flinched harshly as they heard the anger in their best friend's voice. They hadn't realized that Harry had been treated so abhorrently; too focused on trying to defeat Voldemort to listen to anything not relevant to the situation. Hermione's muggle parents treated her wonderfully, and it was beyond her comprehension that Harry's family would treat him differently. Ron had never been exposed to abuse of any kind, so he had no frame of reference. In the wizarding world, child abuse was relatively unheard of, so he couldn't understand why parents, or aunts, or uncles could treat their relatives so badly.

"So, even in the wizarding world, you were still considered an outsider. Is that how you felt?"

"Yes," Thea cried, hands covering her face as she sobbed. "When Ron and Hermione didn't listen, I tried to tell the headmaster. He just patted me on the head and sent me on my way with reassurances that things couldn't _possibly_ be as bad as I was making them out to be. Or he would tell me to stop doing whatever it was that was pissing them off. He didn't seem to understand that my very _existence_ is what pissed them off." She dried her tears and got herself back under control before continuing. "I tried to go to the teachers and my Head of House, but no one had the time to listen to me. No one cared."

"So, after your parents' deaths and the abandonment of you in the muggle world, you came back to the wizarding world to face even more abandonment. Is this why you chose to surrender as you have? You figured to abandon the wizarding world to their fate, since they deigned to do the same to you?"

"Yes, dammit," the girl finally snarled. "I was sick and tired of the weight of expectation; the fact that no one else wanted to take some of the burden from my shoulders. I would have done my absolute _most_ for the wizarding world, had it even lifted _one finger_ to ease the burden. No one came forward; no one offered to help, to let me have just a few moments of _peace_. The only attention I _ever_ got was nonstop training, or being raked over the coals and treated like a pariah. Even my _friends_ bought into the whole 'savior' bit, doing everything they could to keep me focused on the ultimate goal; that I commit _murder_ in their names. I ceased to be a _person_ from the moment my parents were killed; from that moment, I became a beacon of hope; a _cross_ from which everyone could hang their hopes and dreams, knowing that _they_ wouldn't have to dirty their hands to save themselves.

"I was so _tired_. Tired of not having a life of my own. Tired of all the unreasonable expectations. Tired of trying to maintain the image of _perfection_ everyone thought I should be. Tired of being nothing but a _weapon_. So, while I was in that abandoned classroom, I thought about ending it all. I considered suicide to be the very last resort; however, the more pressure that was brought to bear on me, the closer to that final solution I drifted. When Draco discovered me in that room that night, I had finally made my decision. My only question was _how_. How did I want to die? _Where_ did I want to die? After all, no one would really _miss_ me, since they didn't really _know_ me. Draco saved my life that night. He showed up when I needed someone the most, and I can only think that Fate was watching me that night, and sent me someone who would actually _give a damn_ about me."

"Your husband has become your lifeline. It will take some time, but his love and care will free you of your nightmares. You are also free of your relatives; you need never go back there again. That, as well, will help you to recover. For what it's worth, you made the right choice. We, all of us, need someone that we can depend on when we're weakest. You've found your someone, and I wish you well." Asmodroth stood and flooed away, leaving behind two very shocked and ashamed Gryffindors, and one seething new bride.

"Thea, we didn't know," Ron murmured, blue eyes sad. He thought he should be the one to talk to the girl; Hermione was still in a state of shock, and her thoughtless comments throughout the years had created several deep scars within their best friend. "The headmaster wanted us to make sure that your thoughts were always on the fight ahead. We took that to mean that you couldn't think about anything else but schoolwork and the war. We were wrong to follow his lead; we never should have treated you like a possession. We know you will need time to deal with this; we need time to come to terms with all we've learned. We…we'll go back to the Burrow. When you're ready, let us know, and we'll work on getting to know you better." The pair stood and left, returning to Ron's home to talk over what they'd learned.

* * *

"I have the absolute best way to finally end this thing," Thea said to Tom as they sat in the Dark Lord's study at the Manor. The students were to return to Hogwarts the next day, but Lady Malfoy had wanted a private word with Riddle.

"Oh?" Tom questioned with a smirk.

"We get all of those muggleborns that you saved, and take them to Hogwarts for the Returning Feast. We introduce them to Dumbledore, and have them tell their stories to the old man. Once he's heard what you're actually about, I think he'll back down and concede defeat. He's only ever wanted what was best for the wizarding world, the same as you. I think, once he realizes that revealing our magic to the muggles will only end in bloodshed, he'll understand that your way is actually best. Then, you and he can sit down and discuss your plans and policies, and perhaps you can offer him a way to help, so that he still feels relevant to our world. As well, if you can get him to back your proposals, it would make the transition from the way things are now to a 'new world order' that much easier. Everyone will want to cooperate if Dumbledore gives the changes his approval. He is still greatly revered, after all."

"That is actually a very good idea, my dear," Tom purred, smirking. "I am so very glad that you decided to surrender to us. Things have gone so much better since you came on board."

"Thank you, my Lord," Thea murmured with a blush.

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?" Dumbledore thundered as he stood at the Head table. The students were sitting at their House tables, stunned, staring at the large group of people standing in the doorway of the Great Hall. Thea stepped forward and bowed to the old man, surprising him for a moment.

"I have brought you some people that would like to speak with you, sir," she replied softly, gesturing to the group of people behind her. The children stepped forward and up to the Head table. They ranged in age from six to sixteen, and many of them sported scars and wounds, threadbare clothes, and some were without shoes. Thea strode up behind the group, looking into the kindly blue eyes of the headmaster. "These are muggleborns, sir, who have been hunted in the muggle world. I will let them tell their stories."


	6. Part Six

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has responded to the last chapter. I didn't realize that so many would want to hear the stories, so I didn't think to include them. But because so many of you requested stories from the rescued muggleborns, I decided to dedicate this chapter to you. You are the reason I continue to write. Thank you for all the love and support. =====================================================================

 **Part Six**

The first muggleborn to speak was a teen, about fourteen years old. He stepped forward and stared into Dumbledore's shocked eyes before he pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head. The students in the Great Hall gasped as one before the boy turned around, revealing to the headmaster what had shocked the students so. Carved into his back, in ragged letters, were the words _freak_ and _unnatural_. "My father carved these words into my back, to 'brand' me for what I was. I had done accidental magic when I was six; my older brothers were tormenting me, and I had thrown one of their cricket bats at them, to make them stop. I did it without touching the bat, and they ran to my father and told him what I had done.

"I didn't learn until later that my older brothers had a different mum from mine. Their mum had left them; she was a selfish bitch, who only thought of herself. My brothers would tell me about her staying out all hours while Dad worked, leaving them alone in the house. They were seven and eight at the time. She would forget to fix them anything to eat, intent on going out and having a good time with her friends. Dad suspected something, but my brothers wouldn't tell him anything. They were afraid that she would hurt them somehow; that's how unstable she really was.

"My mum came into the picture later, and I was the only child she bore. My father discovered that she was a witch, and he sent her away. He refused to let her take me with her, though. I guess he was afraid that she would somehow _poison_ my soul with her sinful evilness. Apparently, he was hoping that her unnaturalness wasn't _contagious_. When my accidental magic started, he screamed in my face, calling me everything from _monster_ to _demon spawn_. One night, when he was drunk, he took a kitchen knife and carved those words into my back, saying that 'if I was to be something unnatural, that I should be branded like a cow, so that everyone would know and stay away'. He even tried to beat the magic out of me, which encouraged me to get some sort of control over it, if I was going to survive. He saw the cessation of accidental magic as the 'freakish things going away'. He thought he'd succeeded in beating my magic away and 'saving' my soul."

He put his shirt back on and turned to face the headmaster again. "I ran away when I turned eleven; I had received my Hogwarts letter, but my dad had read it first. The look of hatred in his eyes…I still see it when I close my eyes to sleep. I knew that if I had stayed one more day, I would have died. So, that night, I packed what little belongings I had and I ran. I didn't care where I went; I just needed to get out of _there_. I found an abandoned warehouse, in which a bunch of other kids were living, and they welcomed me. I've lived there ever since. We have a lot of kids, just like me, who come and go. I've tried to train my magic as best as I could, to try and protect us, but it never seemed like it would be enough."

The next child to speak was a little girl of ten; her twin sister stood silently beside her, eyes on the floor and long, stringy hair hanging over her face, hiding it from view. "Our parents sold us to a traveling carnival show when we were six," she rasped. There were thin scars encircling her neck, as if something had been twined around it and twisted until it had embedded itself in her flesh. "Neither of them could do the weird things that we could, so they put an advert in one of the underground papers, looking for someone to take us off their hands. Some nasty looking man showed up one day in response to the ad, and our mum forced us to show him what we could do. So he paid them for us, and took us away. We spent a lot of time in a cage, on display for all the customers that came through. He had put shock collars on our necks, to keep us in line." She touched the scars, eyes full of a sadness that didn't belong to such a young child. "That's where the scars came from, and why my voice sounds like it does. The collar went off whenever the ringmaster pushed the button. He liked to hear us scream.

"When some of the other patrons showed a _different_ kind of interest in us, my sister was removed from the cage, to be used as they saw fit. When her accidental magic would react to the assaults, they cut her face, to make sure that she would be too ugly for anyone else to look at." The girl's sister finally lifted her head, her hair falling away from her face and revealing the long, looping scars that ran over her face and neck. "I knew that we'd die if we didn't get out of there, but there was no way to escape. One day, an older boy came through the carnival. He saw what we could do, and came back after the carnival had closed. He told us that he could do those things, too, and that he had a place we could go to be safe. He helped us escape, and we stayed in the warehouse with others like us."

A sixteen year old boy, tall and lean, stepped forward and stared at the headmaster with dead eyes. "I've lived in the warehouse since I was nine," he said softly. "When my accidental magic flared up, my parents just threw me out of the house. At four, I had nowhere to go, but some strangers found me huddled in the alley near my house, and they took me in. I didn't realize until it was too late that they wanted me as part of their child pornography ring. I was forced to perform multiple sexual acts on a great many men, and I was kept in a locked closet when I wasn't needed. My magic would react badly to the way I was used, until they figured out how to control it. They had some weird guy rig up a harness that would give me an electrical shock every time my magic started to surface. Needless to say, it worked very well in training me to block my power. It was when they brought in the animals that I finally decided I'd had enough.

"I was nine years old when they tried to introduce me to the German shepherd dogs they wanted me to perform with. My magic had gotten stronger; since I wasn't using it, it was just building up under my skin, like a flood pushing at a weak dam. They had to remove the harness to prevent it from shocking the dogs, so my power lashed out in my terror, killing the dogs and causing a fire. I escaped in the confusion, and found my way to the warehouse, where I met others like me. The fire was ruled accidental, but the evidence of what went on there ensured that my captors would serve long sentences. Through investigations, the authorities were able to find the other victims of the pornography ring, and were able to reunite some of them with their families. There were others like me, but they were locked away in asylums. Some of those in the mental wards have died; mostly due to 'exorcisms'."

"Are…are _all_ of you refugees in the muggle world?" Albus asked hesitantly, eyes sad.

"We are," a nineteen year old girl said. "All of us are magical, be it through a muggle-magical marriage, a muggleborn-magical marriage, or a muggle-muggle marriage. We didn't _ask_ for this. We didn't _want_ to be different from everyone else. There are more of us out there, hiding and running. No one _ever_ came to explain things to us. Most of us grew up with people throwing rocks at us, or hunting us because we can do magic. It wasn't until Tom Riddle and his people found us that we realized that there was a _whole other world_ , with people _just like us_ , waiting to welcome us. They've been working with us to try and find a way to assimilate us into the wizarding world, and they've been teaching us about ourselves."

"What about the Ministry?" Minerva asked, frowning. "They should have been alerted as soon as your accidental magic had manifested, and sent someone out to speak with your parents."

"Someone came to my house," a twelve year old boy murmured. "They sat down and told my parents about my magic, and that, once I turned eleven, I would be invited to attend Hogwarts. I was six when they came, and as soon as they left, my parents threw me out of the house, afraid of the idea that some secret organization was _spying_ on them, and that it was _my_ fault that they'd been found."

"Surely your parents understood what a special _gift_ your magic was," Filius Flitwick squeaked, shocked.

"No," another boy, fifteen, said into the silence. "It wasn't a _gift_. It was an _abomination_. Tools, sent by Satan himself, to turn good Christian people away from God. We were considered _evil incarnate_ , because we could wield powers that had to have come from the depths of Hell itself. It was our parents' duties, as good, honest Christians, to fight the temptations set forth by Lucifer, and emerge victorious for God. We became the symbol of all the evil in the world; for all of the misfortunes that people had suffered, and continue to suffer. We became the focus on which the world could pin all of its fears and hatreds, and we became the excuse for why things were as bad as they were. Rather than take responsibility for their own failings, and their own sins, they chose to pin all of that on us, making us their own personal scapegoats."

"Come now, children," Dumbledore tried to soothe, "it couldn't have been _that_ bad."

"I have a pensieve," Thea said into the shocked silence. Many of the muggleborn students were angered at the headmaster blithely ignoring the obvious suffering these children had undergone. "Several of the children have volunteered to provide you with memories that you may view, so that you can get a better sense of what they speak about." She placed the bowl on a table, beckoning the first of the children to her side. It was a ten year old girl, whose eyes showed a soul many centuries older than her physical body presented. Whispering softly, Thea put her wand to the girl's head and had her concentrate on the most personal, painful memory she had. A silvery strand was pulled from the girl's temple and dropped into the pensieve. Tom murmured the spell that would allow the memory to be projected into the air, so that all could watch. The children, knowing what kind of scene it was likely to be, turned away, Severus putting an obscuring bubble around them so that they wouldn't have to suffer watching or hearing the pain that they all shared in one form or another.

" _You ugly_ _ **freak**_ _," an astonishingly beautiful woman hisses at the girl. The child is six, and she doesn't know what she's done. Her mother slaps her face harshly, her own face in a rictus of rage and hatred. "That's_ _ **another**_ _one you've chased off with your unnaturalness." The woman storms away, leaving the child curled up on the floor, hand clutching her burning cheek and tears falling silently to the floor. Soon enough, the woman returns with a trash bag filled with the child's belongings. "I can't take another day of you being here, interfering with my plans," the woman snarls, throwing the bag on top of the girl's prostrate form. "Get out. Don't ever come back. I don't care if you live or die, as long as it's away from_ _ **here**_ _. I_ _ **hate**_ _you!"_

The memory is removed and replaced, and the next child approached, walking through the containment bubble like it was water. After a brief whispered conversation, Thea pulled the memory from the boy, who turned and went back to his group, hiding his face against the sixteen year old boy's chest. A hand went to his hair, carding softly through it as everyone surrounded the pair, offering their own forms of comfort. Thea placed the memory in the basin and activated it.

 _He is sitting on the tire swing in the back yard, watching as his brothers and sisters all play tag. He is unwelcome to join in; his magic makes him an abomination in their eyes. Though the younger girls don't really understand why they must shun him, they nevertheless listen to their parents. They've heard, in the night, the prayers and chanting from their father's church group, which meets in their house. It is a fringe religion that the older man has latched onto in order to explain how he and his wife, who are perfectly normal, could have such an abnormal child. None of the other children are like him; he is alone and isolated within the family._

 _Tears slowly track down his face as he watches some strange men come toward him. His father has called the 'authorities' to come get him, but he knows who they really are. They are the elders of his father's church, come to take him away. He bolts away from them, running frantically for the fence that surrounds the yard. He is within a fingertip's grasp of the gate when arms surround him, and a needle goes into his neck. As his eyes drift closed, he sees his father smiling happily as the men take him away._

The memory was returned to the child, and the next one came up. One by one, the children contributed memories to be viewed, so that the old man could finally see just how the muggle world treated them. Memories of pain and loss; of heartbreak and violence pranced before the stunned eyes of the professors and staff of Hogwarts. At one point Dumbledore closed his eyes, trying to hide from the cruelty that had been visited upon innocent children. He could not hide, however, from the sounds that the memories also shared. Cries of pain and screams of anguish thundered through his head, and tears slowly traced their way down his face and into his beard, his heart heavy with the sins he'd committed against innocents. Though he, himself, had never actually done anything to them, he knew that he carried the lion's share of the blame, for his ignorance had consigned these poor children to a kind of hell that none of them could possibly fathom. It was his _inaction_ in the face of pleas for understanding and sanctuary, that helped to condemn the children.

The most painful, heartbreaking memories that the children shared, however, were of the violations. The rapes and molestations hammered at the souls of the teachers, who flinched and winced as the sounds seared their minds. Some couldn't take it and fled, to find a loo in which to expel the last meals they had eaten. Through it all, Calathea, Tom, and Severus watched unflinchingly; they were well familiar with the abuse, though not the sexual attacks. They'd felt that _someone_ had to bear uncompromising witness to the horrors the children had suffered. _Someone_ had to validate their pain; their anguish.

* * *

The refugees sat in the corner of the Great Hall, at a table conjured for their use. They carefully ate what was offered, flinching every now and then as a house elf would pop up to see if they needed anything else. They watched the rest of the students and staff with careful, cautious eyes, alert for any signs of trouble, or betrayals. Tom sat with them, speaking gently to them and trying to get them to relax. He was the only known quantity in the Hall, except for Thea and Severus; he was trusted above all others by the children, who leaned on him and silently pled for their safety. Other students would often approach the table, attempting to engage the refugees in conversation. They usually returned to their own tables fairly quickly, unsure how to relate to children who had been terrorized for most of their lives. Though the students of Hogwarts had lived through some minor conflicts before Harry Potter saved them all, they couldn't possibly relate in any meaningful way to the experiences the strangers had survived.

Some of the muggleborns approached the refugees, sure that they would be able to understand better than anyone else. They, too, were sent away after a short time, baffled that they weren't able to make any sort of headway with the recalcitrant children. It was the Slytherins, astonishingly enough, that were able to break through the brittle shell that had encased the group, sharing their _own_ memories of unreasonable expectations. Though the Slytherin students couldn't completely understand the torment that the refugees had endured, they were able to relate, on a more visceral level, with the abuse and neglect; with the heavy burdens of _expectations_ that were never realized; with the bitter disappointment and scorn heaped upon them when they dared to show how _fallible_ and _human_ they really were. Soon, all of the abandoned children found themselves with invitations to manors and mansions, where they would be treated to kindness and care that they'd never known. Many of the Slytherin students knew that their parents mightn't be as amenable to the idea, but all it would take would be one word from Lord Voldemort, and all arguments would be settled.

"Is this real?" one of the refugees, an eight year old boy, asked in wonder. Tom smiled at the child and stroked a gentle hand through his dishwater blonde hair.

"It's real," he replied softly, ruby eyes going from child to child. "These students are some of the best and brightest Hogwarts has to offer; they are also purebloods, or halfbloods. They know the importance of family and home, and are willing to show all of you what things _could_ be, if you're willing to take the chance."


	7. Part Seven

**Saving the Savior**

 **Part Seven**

"So we are agreed, Albus?" Tom asked softly as he looked at the old man. Dumbledore was still reeling at all the tales he'd been told, from muggleborns that had not been given an opportunity to thrive and flourish, either in the muggle world or the magical one. They had barely _survived_ the persecution, and it was only through the intervention of Tom Riddle that some of the muggleborns were able to be _saved_. The pensieve memories taken from the children, and viewed by all, gave bitter testimony to the treatment they'd received, and Tom's files, which were full of reports and receipts, brought home with painful clarity how completely wrong the headmaster had been all the years he'd tried to combine both worlds.

"We are," the old man rasped out sorrowfully. "I…I wish to apologize to you, Tom," Albus continued. "I should have taken you more at your word when you came to my school as a child. I only saw what you had become; not what had made you that way. And, I fear, I have done Harry Potter a great disservice. He tried to tell me of his treatment with his muggle relatives, but, in my arrogance, I believed I knew more about his situation, from the outside, than he did _living_ it. I only wish he were here, so that I could apologize to him, and, perhaps, try and make it up to him somehow."

"I _am_ here, headmaster," a soft, feminine voice spoke into the silence. Looking up, Albus' eyes widened on the girl who stood in the doorway of the headmaster's office. She had stood outside the closed door, listening, and having heard what the old man had said, had decided to take the opportunity to explain things.

"Miss Prince," the old man said with a tremble in his voice. "What a surprise. May I ask why you are here?"

"First, it's Lady Malfoy now," the girl answered quietly. She nodded her appreciation at the old man's words of congratulations. "Secondly, I'm here to talk to you, if I may."

"We are in the middle of an important meeting, young lady," Albus said with a little disapproval. "I am sure that it can wait until we are finished."

"Actually, Albus, she is part of this meeting," Riddle interrupted, smirking at the wide blue eyes that had swung his way. "What she has to tell you is important, and the reason that this war has ended without bloodshed. Please, allow her to speak, so that you may understand."

"Very well. Come have a seat, Lady Malfoy, and I will listen to you." Calathea sat in the only available overstuffed gaudily colored chair and took a deep breath. From her first words Dumbledore sat, rendered speechless, blue eyes wide with shock.

"I was born Harry James Potter," she began, eyes on her hands. From there, she explained everything she had experienced, everything she felt, and the impetus behind her decision to surrender in the manner that she had. The only interruption during the long narration was a house elf, who had brought refreshments. It was dusk before she had finished speaking, her voice hoarse and raspy from talking for so long. The silence was thick and uncomfortable as her last words died in the air; no one wanted to speak for a long moment, too afraid of breaking the heavy moment with the wrong words. Finally, blue eyes, sans twinkle, met emerald, and there was a world of sorrow and guilt in their cerulean depths.

"It is my fault that you've had to make the choice you did," the old man finally said in a tired voice. "I only ever wanted you safe and protected. In my arrogance, I thought that your mother's sister would be suitable. After all, she _is_ family. It never occurred to me that she and her husband would treat you so horridly. A lot of that was the assumption that family always supported each other. We do not have a great many issues of child abuse in the wizarding world. Because most families are hard-pressed to have more than one offspring, children are more cherished than anything else in our world."

"That statement, unfortunately, is untrue," Tom interjected gently, with an apologetic smile to the headmaster. "Most Dark families tend to use rather harsh methods to rear their children. There are expectations to be met, and the parents use whatever means they choose to make sure that their children live up to those expectations. It is why squibs are banished from family tapestries, and why they are cast out into the muggle world. Family is all-important to the purebloods, but _perfect_ families are paramount, and they will do whatever they have to in order to ensure that perfection."

"Why is there no record of abuse reported to the Ministry?" Albus asked angrily. "These children need to be _protected_."

"Like _I_ was protected?" Thea chimed in, her voice hard. "Like _Tom_ was protected? Like _Severus_ was protected? It's all well and good that you want protection for the children _now_ , but for many of us it is far too late. Why did you turn a blind eye to our treatment when we came to you for sanctuary? Why did you not stand up for _us_ the way you stood up for the muggleborns? Why fight _so hard_ for _them_ , and cast _us_ aside?"

"I…I believed that the muggleborns were targeted for disposal," Albus stammered, eyes wide on the furious young woman. "I thought that the rampant discrimination against them needed to be addressed. People needed to know that the muggleborns are just as important to the survival of the wizarding world as the purebloods are."

"Which leaves the halfbloods out in the cold, I suppose," Thea snapped. "I guess you feel the same way that many purebloods felt. Because our magical parents chose to be with muggles or muggleborns, that made halfbloods lower than the slime of a slug. Muggleborns couldn't _help_ it that _their_ muggle parents created a magical child. But a pureblood wizard, rutting with a _muggle_ or a _muggleborn_ , well, that's a grievous _sin_ in everyone's eyes."

"That is not what I meant, child," Albus was quick to retort. "Halfbloods have at least one magical parent to help them learn about the magical world. They don't come into our world with any preconceived notions, nor do they come here with expectations that our world will be just like the muggle world."

"And that's where you're wrong again," Tom rejoined. "Halfbloods, even though they have at least one magical parent, _usually_ end up growing up in the muggle world. It's impossible for a muggle to be able to live in the magical world, and the magical parent will not do anything to upset or harm their muggle spouse. So they live in the muggle world, as muggles, and raise their magical children as muggles. It's only when accidental magic is manifested that the muggle parent finds out the truth about their spouse and child. Six times out of ten, that muggle spouse will either abandon their family, or abuse the magical child, thinking he or she is some sort of demon, or is demonically possessed. Magic is not to be tolerated in their muggle households. Any abnormality would reflect _badly_ on the muggle parent, or bring unwanted, often violent, attention to the family. So the halfbloods end up being abused, neglected, or abandoned."

"I…I was not aware of that," Dumbledore muttered hesitantly. "It was different with my family. My mother was muggleborn, but we lived in villages that were a mix of muggles and magicals. It wasn't until my sister, Ariana, that I realized that muggles were more dangerous than I had believed. When she was attacked for doing magic in the yard, I believed that muggles were in need of some stern handling, to make them more accepting of magicals." At Tom's and Calathea's incredulous looks, the headmaster flushed in embarrassment. "I admit, I was very young and naïve. We lived in a magical/muggle mixed village, with no real issues. It did not occur to me to think that the magical villagers were anything but open with everyone else. When the attack on my sister occurred, I realized then that perhaps muggles weren't quite _ready_ to be exposed to magicals.

"Muggles were still very superstitious when I was young. They allowed those superstitions to cloud their judgment, and branded magicals as demon spawn. I figured, when I got older, that I would be able to somehow _change_ things; to encourage muggles and magicals to get along and live in peace and harmony." Twin snorts of derisive amusement met this statement, and Albus nodded ruefully. "Yes, I was stupid and blind. I went out into the muggle world to explore and watch, thinking that, if I understood them better, perhaps I could change them. It was an eye-opening experience, I must tell you. I was all set to try and encourage them to get along with _us_ , when they couldn't even get along with _each other_. It was very disheartening to see them treat each other so badly. Since then, I've tried to gradually open our borders, to allow limited access to the magical world. I was hoping that, with the advancing technologies, their minds would be more open to the possibilities of magic."

"It will probably take several thousand years of evolution before muggles will be able to reach the point of acceptance of all differences," Tom said reassuringly. "I am confident that it _will_ happen. Either that, or they'll drive themselves, and by extension us, to extinction. It could actually go either way."

"Thank you, Tom, for that poor attempt at comfort," Albus growled, glaring slightly at the Dark Lord. He then turned his blue eyes to the girl. "I am sorry that my mistake has driven you to this extreme, Ha…my bo…Lady Malfoy. I know that there is no way to make it up to you for all of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your relatives."

"It wasn't just by my relatives' hands that I was abused, Albus," the girl replied, brushing off the apology as meaningless. When bushy white eyebrows went skyward questioningly, she continued. "I was also abused from the moment I stepped back into the wizarding world." When the headmaster opened his mouth to refute that claim, she held her hand up, eyes hard once again. Dumbledore subsided grudgingly. "If it wasn't that scandal rag that wizarding Great Britain calls a newspaper, raking me and my reputation over the coals almost daily, it was the students, treating me like a god one day and a demon the next. It was the 'challenges' you set for me, to test my mettle. It was the near constant 'training' over the last two years. It was _you_ , treating me as nothing more than a _weapon_. I had _no life_. I had _no love_. I had _no peace_. I couldn't even _breathe_ without everyone wanting to be all up in my business. Everyone in this world treated me like their own personal property, while you treated me like an expendable soldier. I was never a _person_ to _any_ of you.

"As for my relatives, you knew full well what went on in that house. I told you _everything_ at the end of first year, and again at the end of second, while I _begged_ you to find me somewhere else to live. All you did was pat me on the head and send me back into that hell. So I quit trying to tell _anyone_. No one wanted to listen to me anyway. Do you know that not one single teacher in this school _ever_ tried to help me? No one _ever_ asked how I was doing, or how I was feeling. But the biggest disappointment was the Triwizard Tournament. _You_ , as my supposed magical guardian, could have _stopped_ me from participating. I was _under age_. _I_ _could not legally agree to a binding magical contract._ It had absolutely _no bearing_ on me, because I was _not of age_. But no. You had _plans_. You were in touch with everything that went on in the school, through the wards, the portraits, the ghosts, and Fawkes. You _knew_ that there was a _Death Eater_ in the school. That _he_ was the one to put my name in the cup. You needed me in that contest so that Tom could resurrect himself. So that your _weapon_ could do its job.

"So, last term I started to get away from everyone. I found an abandoned classroom that was far enough away from everyone that I could have a little bit of peace. I thought about my life; about what would become of me once I'd done my 'duty' and killed for you. I knew that I would never have any peace or privacy. That my life would become the property of the wizarding world. So I started thinking about my death. I thought more and more about killing myself, and leaving _you_ to clean up the mess you had created _in the first place_. But then Draco came into the classroom, and I finally found someone with whom I could be myself. I had also been thinking about the prophecy; that mad old hag had pretty much sentenced me to a life in prison, so I was thinking of ways to somehow get by it. When Draco came in, it hit me. If I changed my _gender_ , the prophecy would be cancelled. It wouldn't apply to me anymore, because I wouldn't be a _him_ anymore.

"I wanted a life of my own, and friends that weren't influenced by my 'titles'. I wanted peace and happiness and love; all the things that everyone else gets to have, and takes for granted. I realized that doing _this_ ," she waved her hands over herself, "to myself was the only way to get that. I accept that you had a world to 'save', though I would be the one through whom you would accomplish that. I accept that you had a vision of me as your weapon, and nothing more. However, I will never forgive you. You treated me _worse_ than Tom ever treated any of his minions, even when he was at his worst. They always _knew_ what he was thinking and feeling. He never _lied_ to them, or made them believe that he'd _cared_ about them. They knew _exactly_ where they stood with him. They _still_ do. His goals have always been the same, though his method of operation may have been a little fucked up. Everything on Tom's side of the war is open and aboveboard. No subterfuge; no hidden agenda; no _pretending_."

"I _do_ care about you, Lady Malfoy, as I care about _all_ of my children. You, in your former incarnation, always represented the strength and honor of the wizarding world. You were the shining beacon of the Greater Good. How could I _not_ care about you? In fact, I daresay I cared more for _you_ than any other student here." Albus' head went up, pride gleaming from his eyes. Calathea scowled at the old man.

"You say you cared. But you didn't care enough to see that I was safe and happy during my summers home. You didn't care enough to make sure I had more adequate _help_ for all of the adventures in which I was forced to participate. You didn't care enough to make sure that I didn't _have_ to participate in the Tournament. You didn't care enough to ever ask how I was doing, or if I needed support or help. You didn't care enough to see me as anything more than a means to an end." Angry silence followed Thea's words as everyone glared at everyone else. "Oh, yes, there's one more thing," the girl chirped, a smirk on her face. "I want to know why you felt the need to access my vaults and steal from me."

"Wh-what?" the old man stuttered, eyes wide and frightened. "I never _stole_ from you. How could you even _think_ that?"

"Well, when Severus claimed responsibility for me, and Lucius agreed to the betrothal contract, they were given permission to go into my vaults and request an accounting. Imagine their surprise when they discovered that you had taken a substantial amount of money from me, as well as some of my family heirlooms. What did you need my money for, and why take the heirlooms?"

"I…I needed the money to fund the war effort," Dumbledore finally stammered, eyes on his hands. "I knew Lily and James would not begrudge me the funds necessary to protect the wizarding world. As…as for the heirlooms, I took the ones that I _knew_ were Dark. I did not want the Savior to be tainted with anything _Dark_. Once the war was ended, you were to be the next leader of the wizarding world, and any taint to your reputation was not to be borne."

"Ah," Thea sighed, saddened anew at the answer. "So, once again, I am a _thing_ to you, with abundant coffers from which to support yourself and your efforts until I can do my _job_ and murder someone for you. It doesn't matter anymore; the goblins have used your accounts and properties to replace what was stolen. I will contact the Malfoy family solicitor and have him post a demand that you return all the heirlooms that you've stolen from me. Since I am no longer the _Savior_ , it doesn't _matter_ what my reputation is." She stood, a look of deep, bitter betrayal on her face. "I'm done here. When I graduate, you will never see me or hear from me again. Do not attempt to approach me in any way, or I will see you in Azkaban for every single thing you've done to me, or put me through. Good day." She left the office, storming through the halls until she reached the Slytherin common room. Once inside, she was surrounded by her friends as Draco tried to calm her.

Back inside the headmaster's office, Tom watched as the old man collapsed into himself, eyes unaccountably sad. "You brought this on yourself," the Dark Lord finally said quietly, watching Dumbledore flinch at the sound of his voice. "You are, perhaps, the most brilliant wizard that the wizarding world has ever seen," he continued softly. "That brilliance comes with a very hefty price. I believe it renders you incapable of seeing things from a perspective not your own. You have wonderful ideas for advancing our world, and I would be honored if you would partner with me and help me to keep our world safe. However, I believe you should retire as headmaster. I do not think, after this, that you should be in any way influencing children."

"Thank you, Tom," the old man husked sorrowfully. "I agree; I have been too intent on having things my way, and have ignored the little things in favor of the big picture. I humbly accept your offer, and believe that Minerva would make an excellent headmistress."

"I don't think so," Riddle replied. "She was one of those who failed to intervene when Thea needed help the most. Especially when Umbridge had control of the school. Were you aware that the entire time that despicable witch was in this school, she was torturing the students? She was especially vicious to Harry Potter. She assigned detentions, and used a blood quill to make them write lines. Harry had, before he became Calathea, a scar across the back of his left hand that read 'I must not tell lies'. For a scar to be that deeply carved that it was legible from several feet away, the torture must've gone on for weeks. Thea told me that she once went to McGonagall, to try and tell her what was going on. The woman refused to listen, and told Thea to 'keep her head down and her mouth shut'.

"What Umbridge did was _illegal_ , on so many levels. Had McGonagall gone to the authorities, that bitch wouldn't have been able to continue her treatment of the students. Had _anyone_ stood up for the students, she would've been incarcerated."

"We _couldn't_ , Tom," Dumbledore replied with a little bit of heat, angry at the other man's slander of one of his oldest and dearest friends. "Cornelius Fudge was _still_ Minister, and he was the one to give that odious woman carte blanche to do whatever she wished. Our hands were _tied_."

" _Codswallop_ ," the Dark Lord snapped, angry for the first time since they started their meeting. "Amelia Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour, or John Dawlish would have arrested her, had but _one person_ reported the abuse and torture. There were far too many purebloods in this school who could've told their parents, who would've gone to the Ministry _themselves_ to press charges. But, because it was your vaunted _Savior_ who was being punished the most, everyone ignored the torture. Hell, I'm sure everyone thought he'd _deserved_ it. He and the other muggleborns and halfbloods that were targeted.

"We're not here to discuss that, however. Umbridge has been dealt with, as has been Fudge. We are here to discuss our partnership, and who will take over the running of the school. I believe Severus Snape should be the next headmaster, and your phoenix agrees. He's rather put out with you at the moment. It seems that he'd tried to warn you of the incidences in the school, revolving around Harry Potter, for _years_ , but you chose to ignore him. Not the wisest course of action. Because you did not heed your familiar's advice, the familiar/wizard bond has weakened until it finally snapped. He is a free phoenix at the moment, and seems more than willing to bond with Severus." Dumbledore turned betrayed eyes to the fiery bird, who lifted his beak in the air, turned on his perch, and lifted his tail in disdain at the former headmaster.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Albus quipped, "I seem to be stepping in it a lot today." A snorted laugh was all the reply he received.


	8. Part Eight

**Saving the Savior**

 **Part Eight**

"It's _beautiful_ , Draco," Thea gushed happily. They were inside the foyer of a small manor house that had been built on Malfoy Manor's lands. Lucius and Narcissa were loathe to have their children far away from them, so they agreed to portion out some acreage for their son and his bride. Using Thea's ideas, as well as Draco's, the builders constructed the perfect little mansion for them. It had six bedrooms, but no wings. Thea didn't want her children cloistered in sections of the house; she wanted them to be able to interact with each other and their parents easily. There was an in-ground pool in a conservatory, where lush vegetation grew profusely, making the room seem like an island getaway. The kitchens were outfitted with the most modern magical appliances, with a large pantry off the dining room. The house elf quarters were roomy and expansive, giving the diminutive little creatures plenty of space for themselves. There was even a little house elf nursery, for those who chose to mate. A large library, filled to the rafters with books from the Black library, as well as the Potter heirloom vaults, branched off to one side of the hallway, while a salon/drawing room was placed across from the library. There was even a large office for Draco, when he took over the duties of Minister of the magical world.

The manor was an eclectic mix of old and new world architecture and décor. Thea was inspired by the ancient Greek and Roman structures, and wanted some of those architectural elements in her home. The couple took a few months after they had graduated to travel the world, shopping for furnishings, draperies, window treatments, and other sundry household items with which to decorate their home. It was finally finished, and they were anxious to move in. "I'm glad you like it, love," Draco answered softly, a fond smile on his face. "We have plenty of space for entertaining, and I will have a guest house built next year, so that our friends may come and stay with us for a while, should they wish it."

* * *

"I miss Harry," Ron mumbled softly as he and Hermione lounged in their flat. They had gotten married right after graduation; Thea and her husband were unable to attend because they were out of the country. As well, feelings had grown rather hard between Ron and she; though the redhead had said he'd accepted her choices for her life, the few times they'd gotten together during their last year of Hogwarts always degenerated into bitter accusations on Ron's part. Hermione loved her friend, but she loved Ron more, and invariably took his side of things. She had been offered a job as liaison to the intelligent magical creatures and beings, working to better their positions within the wizarding world. She was excited for the opportunity, but Ron disapproved of the changes to the wizarding government, and she reluctantly turned down the position. However, Tom knew that the muggleborn would be the perfect fit for the job, and kept it open in the hopes that she would change her mind.

"You know where she lives, Ron," his wife answered with a little bit of heat. "You can go and visit her any time you wish."

" _That_ is not Harry," the redhead snapped angrily. "My best mate, _Harry_ , died the day that unnatural _thing_ was created. I miss _Harry_ ; the one with whom I could talk quidditch, the one with whom I could discuss the slimy snakes, the one with whom I could play chess and _win_. We were supposed to be _brothers_. He was supposed to marry my _sister_ , and become a permanent part of my _family_. He wasn't supposed to go and change _everything_ , the selfish bastard."

"We're at peace now, Ron," Hermione growled, standing from the couch and putting her fists on her hips as she glared at her dimwitted husband. "Muggleborns and halfbloods have finally gained acceptance here. We don't have to hide who we _are_ anymore. Opportunities have _broadened_ , now that the wizarding world is accepting some of the muggle technologies. Our populations are _growing_ , and those born outside our borders are finally being _protected_. We're no longer sending away the less magical witches and wizards. Instead, we've built a community for their families and they to live in peaceful harmony, without being treated like abominations. What, about all of that, is so _wrong_?"

"How about the fact that Snape, the greasy bastard, is headmaster? Or about the fact that the _Dark Lord_ is changing things; making us _different_ from what we are? Or about the fact that _my best friend_ is married to the worst Slytherin to have ever been _born_? He's the son of the Dark Lord's right hand man, 'Mione? What about all of that is a _good_ thing?"

Hermione stared at her husband for long moments, finally realizing the mistake she made when she turned her back on her friend, in favor of the mule-headed Weasel in front of her. "She's happy, Ron," the girl finally answered sadly, shaking her head at her husband's selfishness. "For probably the first time in her life, she's happy. Is that so wrong?"

" _Yes_ ," Ron barked, standing himself, arms flailing in his agitation, "because he's not with _us_. _We're_ the ones that are supposed to be making him happy; not that slimy ferret."

"Draco asked you to be one of his groomsmen at his wedding, and you _accepted_. You were _happy_ to accept the honor. What happened to change things?" she asked incredulously, then shook her head impatiently. "Never mind that; we haven't made _her_ happy for a very long time, if ever," the muggleborn continued sadly. "We saw her exactly the way that everyone else in the wizarding world did. As a savior and a demon; a weapon to be used and tossed aside when the task was done. She was never a person to you, was she? She was only a way for you to gain the attention and prestige that you feel you deserve."

"You're wrong," Ron whispered, voice quavering with the pain his wife had just inflicted. "He's my best mate. My friend. We were supposed to vanquish the evil _together_. Not surrender to it. Not take the _coward's_ way out."

"I think that what she did was probably the bravest thing anyone could _ever_ do to save us all. What she did stopped the war machine in its tracks. She sacrificed _everything_ when she made her choice. She ended the Potter line. She changed _who she was_. She offered unconditional surrender to the one being who wanted her _dead_ , without thought to her own safety. She brought _peace_ to our world."

"He gave up," Ron snarled succinctly. "You heard him. If he hadn't have made that choice, he was going to kill himself. That's the cowardly thing to do. Instead of being a man and facing his responsibilities to the wizarding world, he ran." Ron spat on the floor in disgust. Hermione pulled her wand and vanished the mess, scowling at her husband.

"Why was it _her_ responsibility to save the wizarding world? Just because some mad old cow made a supposed _prophecy_? A woman who couldn't find her arse with both hands and a flashlight. Because the 'most brilliant wizard alive' _said_ she was supposed to sacrifice her happiness to _kill_ someone for us? He treated her _worse_ than her revolting muggle relatives. With them, she knew _exactly_ where she stood. She knew she was unwanted and unloved. They never hid their complete disgust for her. On the other hand, Albus Dumbledore _pretended_ to care about her; to _love_ her. All the while, he engineered quests and tasks for her to accomplish, just so that he could make sure that she was strong enough and _stupid_ enough to blindly follow his lead and do what everyone expected of her.

"Why did the wizarding world sit back and let the burdens for its safety rest on a _fifteen month old baby's_ shoulders? Why did it run and hide as soon as the Dark Lord made his return, instead of taking up arms and _doing_ something about it? Why did it allow an incompetent Minister and a gossip rag tell it what to think and what to do? Why did _no one_ , outside the school or in, _ever_ lift a finger to offer her help, or support, or _sanctuary_? Why was _she_ always more different, more capable, than the _rest_ of us?"

"Because the Fates decreed that he should be the one to vanquish the monster," Ron replied tiredly, already sick of the argument.

"But she did," Hermione said softly, brown eyes alight with happiness. "Just not in the way that we'd expected her to. Nowhere in that prophecy did it ever say that she had to _kill_ him. _Vanquishing_ someone doesn't necessarily mean that they have to _die_ ; just be defeated or overcome. She overcame his thirst for her death, and overcame his desire to conquer the wizarding world through violence by offering up herself as a 'sacrifice' of sorts. As well, as soon as she changed her gender, she nullified the prophecy. So, she 'vanquished' that mad old woman's prediction, which saved us all."

"You're probably right, about all of that," Ron agreed, slumping down onto the couch. "Doesn't change the fact that my best friend is _gone_."

"Won't you even _try_ to get to know her? Now that she doesn't have to fight for her life anymore, or meet anyone's unreasonable expectations, she can be relaxed and happy. You really think that the way she was before was _better_ , somehow?"

"I won't be able to talk to him about man stuff anymore," Ron lamented. "Who am I going to go to now, when I want to bitch about _you_?"

"Bill's married to Fleur," Hermione snapped through gritted teeth. "You can go and 'bitch about me' to _him_."

"It won't be the same," Ron mumbled, oblivious to his wife's rising temper. "Bill doesn't know you like Harry does. He wouldn't be able to understand or sympathize." Too caught up in his self-pity, he never saw Hermione raise her wand, and didn't see the oncoming spell until it was too late.

* * *

"How are things progressing at Hogwarts?" Tom asked his mate softly. They were curled up on a couch in front of the fire in Slytherin Castle.

"Everything is going according to schedule," Severus answered, running his fingers along the arm that was wrapped around his waist. "Minerva decided to step down as deputy headmistress, so I told Flitwick he could have the job if he wanted it. It was a seamless transition, and everyone is much happier for it."

"Did she say _why_ she wanted to withdraw?" Tom asked curiously, cock twitching at the soft caresses.

"She felt that she was unsuitable for the position," Severus replied, a smugness in his voice as he felt his mate's response. "I had discussed with her my expectations for her behavior toward the students, and she was, naturally, a bit offended at the notion that she had somehow neglected her duties. When I pointed out the Umbridge situation, she flushed with shame, and nodded meekly. I was rather surprised at the cowed behavior, but understood it. She was chagrined at the way she had treated Thea, and was saddened that her attitude had contributed to the choice that Draco's wife took to free herself from the overwhelming burdens."

"As long as she remains within the school, I have no issues with her demotion. She deserves it, after all. Now, my consort, I believe we should retire to the bedchamber, where I may ravish you to my heart's content. I am _intent_ on an heir, now that the wizarding world is well in hand."

* * *

Draco was thrumming with excitement. Tonight was the night that he would finally and completely make Thea _his_. The 'honeymoon' that they had shared right after graduation was a wonderful way for Malfoy to show his bride the world she'd never been able to see, and it was also a time for them to become more accustomed to each other. They took the few months away to explore their relationship more fully; to get to know one another on a deeper level. Though Draco was desperate to claim Thea, she had wanted to hold off for a little while; to get used to having him around in a more _permanent_ capacity. Understandably, she was very nervous about the more intimate side of their relationship; after all, she was still a virgin. So she used their travel time to adjust to being a woman more completely. Tonight, she would give herself to her husband, in perfect love and perfect trust, and she was _terrified_.

"I…I've never…never…" Thea whispered as Draco gently disrobed her. The blond flushed with pleasure at that, sure that, as Harry Potter, his bride had taken every available opportunity to indulge herself.

"No one wanted the Savior of the wizarding world?" the blond teased gently, instantly ashamed when she pulled away from him and turned her back to him. He saw the hurt flash across her eyes before she had turned away. "I'm sorry, Thea," he whispered, hands gripping her shoulders tenderly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you."

"You didn't," she replied, turning into his arms and cuddling into the comfort he was offering. "I was just reminded of all that I had missed in fighting for my life. I never had time to even _look_ at someone else, let alone give myself to anyone. Besides, I never knew if the interest was for _me_ , or for the _Savior_. I didn't want to be desired for my _title_ ; I only ever wanted to be desired for _myself_."

"I never saw your 'titles'," the blond said softly, rubbing his hands up and down her naked back. Her warmth was seeping through his clothing, and his physical response was rapidly rising. He shuddered when her slender fingers began to undo the buttons to his shirt, and every now and then a sculpted nail scraped pleasantly against his skin. His breath came in soft pants, and he fought to maintain his train of thought. " _You_ were all I ever saw; all I ever _wanted_."

"I know that, Draco," Thea murmured, lips against his pale throat. "That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. Because I could be _anything_ in your eyes. You love _me_ ; you want _me._ I need you, Draco. I don't think I could survive without you." Moaning, the blond quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothing; her teasing touches had lit his blood on fire. Gently, he laid her back on the bed, her ebony and auburn hair flaring around her head in a halo. He stripped her the rest of the way with a flick of his wand, then stood looking down on her, grey eyes dark with passion. Thea shivered under that possessive look, her skin pebbling into goose flesh. Smirking at the visceral reaction, Draco draped himself over her body, his cock nestling between her thighs and making her squirm.

For long moments, all they did was kiss and touch, each brush of finger or tongue fanning the flames of desire between them. "You're stunning," he whispered, making her blush. His hands spanned her waist, his thumbs gently caressed the soft skin of her stomach, and the action soothed her frazzled nerves a little. She ran her own hands over his body, reveling in the tremors she caused by her touch. His chest was well-defined, with dark nipples. His washboard abs begged to be touched, and she ghosted her fingers over his stomach, smirking into the kiss as the muscles flinched and twitched under her questing hands.

His cock was erect, thick, long, and red. She felt a drop of liquid at the tip, and scooped it onto the pad of her index finger, bringing it to her tongue to taste. Draco's eyes darkened in desire as he watched Thea savor the flavor of him, before his own questing fingers encountered her heat. She was already wet, and a stroke to her most secret center had her arching into his touch, quivering.

She pulled her hand away, body arching and trembling, begging for him. He raised up on his hands, hovering over her as he took his cock and touched it to her entrance. "I won't hurt you," he promised, guiding himself into her. She arched at the first thrust, gasping at the pleasure that spiraled through her, the initial pain sharp and fleeting. She wrapped her legs around him, her hands digging into his arse cheeks as he powered into her, his own pleasure matching hers as they moved together. The teasing as they undressed had taken its toll, and neither one was able to hold out for long before the tsunami rolled over them, drowning them in pleasure unimaginable.

Long minutes later, he rolled off of her, pulling her into his arms and cradling her gently against his chest. He kissed her hair, and she murmured something unintelligible as she kissed his skin before they both drifted into slumber.

* * *

 _Eight months later_

"I feel like a beached whale," Thea bitched softly as she lumbered through the house. Her baby was due in a few short weeks, and she couldn't _wait_ to hold her in her arms. They had found out at one of the prenatal checkups that their first child would be a girl, and both parents were ecstatic. Narcissa was over the moon, excited for the arrival of her first grandbaby. Lucius had holed up in his den, sulking that his first grandchild wouldn't be an heir. When Draco heard about it, he stormed over to his father's office and bellowed at him for several minutes, calling him every name in the book, from selfish to pathetic. By the time the blond had finished, the elder Malfoy was slumped down in his chair, a look of abject misery on his face as he realized that he was, indeed, a selfish bastard. After that dressing down, the elder Malfoy made every effort to assure his children that this granddaughter would be loved and cherished, by purchasing everything he could possibly think of that a little girl would love. Thea had rolled her eyes as each new girly present was brought to their house, but in the dark of night, when the house was still, she would sneak into the nursery and play with the toys that had been denied her during her childhood. Granted, they were _girl's_ toys, but the principle was the same.

A chime of the floo alerted the raven that she had an incoming call, so she slowly made her way to the library, smiling widely at the sight of Hermione in the firebox. Though Ron had never gotten over the loss of his 'best mate', he tried to get along as best as he could with Thea. She just rolled her eyes, knowing that things between the redhead and she would never be the same. Hermione, ecstatic at having her friend back, became an invaluable source for Thea to go to, when she found herself in a quandary over the hormones and menstrual cycles. When she became pregnant, she flooed the bushy-haired girl in a panic, for the first time realizing just how totally _unprepared_ she was to be a woman. With a lot of tea and cake, and a sympathetic shoulder to cry on, Hermione came away from that meeting with the knowledge that Thea would always be her best friend, and Thea came away with a deepening bond between herself and the Gryffindor.

"Hermione! I'm so happy to see you! What's new?" Thea chirped as she ponderously lowered herself to the cushions in front of the fireplace. Hermione frowned at her for a moment, concerned, before she beamed at her best friend.

"I'm pregnant!" the muggleborn gushed enthusiastically.

"That's wonderful!" Thea replied with a beaming smile. "How far along are you?"

"I'm about three and a half months," Hermione answered, blushing. "Ron is tickled pink; it's going to be a boy."

"I'm glad to hear it," the raven responded softly with a sad smile. "So, how's the job coming along?"

"It's brilliant," Hermione said proudly. "I'm now liaising between the vampires and the werewolves. It seems that they have some overlapping territory, and a turf war was threatening. I'm working out a way that they both can share the territory, with a strip between the areas as a sort of neutral zone. I want to set up a hospital, a school, and some sort of Auror station within the zone, so that both sides can have access to education and healthcare. The Aurors will be there to ensure that any disagreements don't get too far out of hand."

"Sounds busy," Thea opined softly. "I'm very happy for you; this is your dream job. From what Tom has said, you are excelling far beyond even _his_ expectations."

"Thanks," the muggleborn said with a blush. "How is Draco doing?"

"The wizarding world has a great demand on his time, but he loves it," Thea replied with a grin. "He is very much in his element, and Tom relies very heavily on him for a lot of things. I'm so very proud of him. Is…is Ron doing okay?"

"He is," Hermione responded softly. "He's stopped wishing for the impossible. He really loves you; he just doesn't know how to deal with the _different_ you. I think…I think he's finally realizing that what you did was the only way for the wizarding world to survive. We are all alive, safe, free and happy, thanks to your sacrifice."

"Thank you, Hermione," Thea said, blushing. "What's he doing now? Has he found a job he likes yet?"

"Actually, he's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. Severus approached him last year with the position. It took some hard talking, and a lot of thinking on his part, but he took the job, and hasn't regretted it once. He's taken a page from your book, and is teaching the class as if war was going to break out tomorrow. Since the Ministry had been restructured, and magic has been freed, he's finally seeing that there is no _true_ Dark and Light; that it was always, and only ever, the intent of the wizard, and not the magic, that made it evil or good."


	9. Part Nine

**Saving the Savior**

 **Epilogue**

"Okay, sweetie, now I need you to push," the Healer murmured softly to Thea as she lay on the cot with her feet in the stirrups. Draco stood to her side, her hand gripped tightly in his. Hermione was on the girl's other side, whispering encouragement in her ear. Draco and Hermione had become good friends in the intervening months; ever since the Gryffindor had entered the Ministry, she had made it her mission to get along with Malfoy, for Thea's sake. One day the Slytherin and Gryffindor sat down to lunch, to hash out their differences, and realized that they were more alike than even _they_ knew. Draco encouraged the deepening bond between his wife and her best friend, knowing that the muggleborn would die for his beloved, if necessary. It was that sort of loyalty that he cherished, and that made Hermione worthy to be friends with a Malfoy, in his eyes. Lucius and Narcissa quickly fell into line, once they realized that Draco would use his parental power against them in denying them access to their granddaughter.

"I don't think I can," Thea huffed exhaustedly. She was going on her twenty-third hour of labor; the child was a bit larger than first expected, and using magic to extract the babe could damage Thea's ability to have any more children. So the Healer, being trained in both magical and muggle childbirth, rolled up her sleeves and dove in.

"Come on, sweetie," the Healer coaxed gently, understanding the girl's reluctance. "I only need one more really good push, and you'll have your baby in your arms." Taking a deep breath, Calathea bore down, gripping both Draco's and Hermione's hands tightly as she used them to bolster enough energy to push her baby from her body. At the feeling of something gigantic being _pulled_ from her, she winced, before emerald eyes widened as her daughter gave her first rasping cry.

"She's here," the raven whispered, awed. "She's finally here." Instantly, the mother held out her arms for her baby demandingly, weariness forgotten in the excitement of being able to hold her baby. She was denied briefly, and opened her mouth to bellow at the Healer.

"Just wait a few moments, Lady Malfoy," the assisting mediwitch murmured. "We need to clean her up and get her measurements." Nodding her understanding, the new mother collapsed back onto the bed as the Healer dealt with the afterbirth, smiling wanly at her husband as he brushed her damp hair from her sweaty brow. Hermione was vibrating with excitement, hands clasped together at her chest as she waited for her first look at her honorary niece. Her own pregnancy was beginning to show, and she glowed with the excitement of becoming a new mother. Finally, the swaddled child was placed in her mother's arms, and everyone stared down into the pale face, stunned.

The baby had a thick thatch of blonde hair, which curled riotously over her head. She yawned and wrinkled her nose, before silvery emerald eyes blinked slowly open. "She's beautiful," Hermione murmured, a gentle finger brushing against the baby's fist.

"Thank you," Draco replied with a soft smile. "Have you decided on a name, love?"

"Yes," Thea whispered. "To continue the tradition of naming girls after flowers, as evidenced in both the Evans line and the Black line, I would like to name her Laelia Amaryllis Malfoy."

* * *

Ron stepped into the private room at St. Mungo's, staring with wide eyes at the peaceful family cuddled together on the bed. Draco had gently pushed his wife forward, so that he could climb behind her on the bed, then tugged her between his spread legs. He wrapped his arms around her and cuddled her close, peering at his daughter over Thea's shoulder. Malfoy looked like he had fallen in love all over again as he stared first at his wife, then at his baby. They didn't notice their visitor; too wrapped up in bonding with their child. Shifting uncomfortably, Ron cleared his throat gently so as not to startle the newborn. Emerald and silver eyes rose to him, and he flinched minutely, slightly ashamed for interrupting their family moment.

"Hey, Ron," Thea husked out with a small smile. "What brings you here?"

"Hermione told me that your baby was born, and I wanted to come see her."

"I doubt you can see her very well from way over there," Draco murmured with a small grin. "Come on over and meet your niece." Hesitantly, the redhead made his way over to the bed, eyes wide on the baby.

"She's so _big_ ," Weasley whispered. "Look at all that blonde hair! And it's messy, too! I'm sure you just love the idea of trying to comb _that_ , Malfoy."

"Hopefully, as it grows longer, it'll straighten out," Thea said with a smile. Ron grinned at the girl, then grew serious.

"I…I want to apologize, mate," he said softly. "I was a complete arse to you our last year of Hogwarts, and that arsiness continued after graduation. I was just…just so _jealous_ that you had single-handedly ended the war. I wanted to be there beside you, fighting the good fight."

"But Ron, siding with Tom _was_ fighting the good fight," Thea replied reasonably. "He was fighting for the wizarding world in the best way _possible_ ; by rescuing young wizards and witches who had been ostracized and bullied in the muggle world. He brought to us fresh, new magical blood, from long dead lineages. Our world will now grow and prosper, and be _protected_ in a way that it never was before. As well, we'll be able to carefully share some of our magical knowledge with our muggle brethren, to help them with diseases that they're facing, so that _they_ can live and prosper. It's a win-win for _everybody_ , and you were in on the ground floor."

"I…I never thought about it like that," the redhead said ruminatively. "I always thought that you and I would fight against the Dark witches and wizards, to keep our world safe. I never realized that those efforts would, in effect, _sanitize_ our world, and make it boring. It wasn't until the Yule holiday our sixth year that I understood, perhaps for the first time, that Dark didn't necessarily equate to evil." He turned saddened blue eyes to Draco. "I'm sorry, Malfoy, for any insult I may have dealt you in my brash, Gryffindorish stupidity."

"Well," the blond drawled slowly, "you can't be _that_ stupid if you married Hermione. You're forgiven. I understand what kind of damage preconceived notions can do, and I wish to apologize to you, as well, for constantly belittling and humiliating you while we were in school. With my father drumming that pointless 'blood feud' nonsense in my head, and his ideas that Malfoys _must_ maintain an air of superiority, I was a right stupid prat for much of our school life. Since you're mending fences, please call me Draco."

"Th-thanks, Draco," the redhead responded with a blush. "I'd really like it if you would call me Ron. I think we should leave our surnames out of our interactions from now on. We're not in school anymore, and the Houses don't matter."

"Well said, mate," Thea uttered with a wide grin.

* * *

Severus looked ponderous as he walked through Riddle Manor. He and Tom had gone to a specialized Healer to have a 'pregnancy pouch' applied to the dour man. Within it was the egg fertilized with the Dark Lord's seed, donated happily by Narcissa, that had been growing and developing into the child that both men had wanted for a long time. Using magic, the Healer had created a nutrient-rich environment for the developing fetus, and had attached an 'umbilical cord' from Severus to his embryo so that the man could share a blood supply with his unborn baby. The blood that passed from the Potions Master to the embryo carried oxygen and nutrients, as well as DNA, whilst the return supply carried the deoxygenated blood as well as waste products, which meant that the lean man had spent more time in the bathroom than he'd _ever_ had before. The inconvenience was well worth it, though, because in a short time he would be 'giving birth' to Tom's and his son and heir.

They had talked about a surrogate; Narcissa was more than willing to be that for them, but Severus insisted on carrying his firstborn himself. Later, if they wanted more children, they would look into surrogacy. "Merlin," he muttered to himself as he wandered through the Manor, "I do not know how women _do_ this, and so _frequently_." He finally made it to the Dark Lord's den, where he sat on a comfortably padded chair in front of the fire, to wait for his mate. A house elf popped in to ensure that the man had everything he wanted before popping away to finish the nursery. He was in his seventh month, and had been forbidden from doing anything too strenuous; that included potions brewing. So he was exceedingly bored, but perked up when his floo chimed, notifying him that he had a call. Struggling to stand, he finally approached the firebox and released the ward, eyes widening in surprise as the face of his 'niece' appeared in the flames.

"Thea! This is a pleasant surprise! What may I do for you?"

"If you're not too busy, or too tired, Draco and I would like to come through and introduce you to your goddaughter."

"M-my _goddaughter_?" the dark man asked with some surprise.

"Yes, Severus, your goddaughter. Draco and I would like for you and Tom to be her godparents."

"Please come through," Snape husked hoarsely, emotion flickering in his ebon eyes. The floo shut down, then flared back to life as Draco stepped through, protectively cradling his daughter, closely followed by Thea. She rushed to the Potions Master and wrapped him in an enthusiastic hug before pulling back and stroking his protruding belly.

"Won't be long now," she murmured with a wide smile. "Are you excited?"

"Terrified is more like it," the snarky man replied with a grimace. "My upbringing, as well as Tom's, wasn't conducive to encouraging tenderness or gentleness when dealing with children. I only hope I don't mess it up _too_ badly."

"You'll be fine, uncle Sev," Draco stated as he sauntered over with his daughter. "After all, you handled the Slytherins with love and care, so it shouldn't be too much of a stretch to extend that love to your own children. Now, I'd like to introduce you to Laelia Amaryllis Malfoy." He held up the child, watching with fondness as the Potions Master stared at the baby with awe.

"She's lovely," he whispered, a hesitant finger coming up to stroke along a chubby fist. The fingers uncurled and gripped Severus' finger, making the dour man chuckle wetly, eyes suspiciously damp. "She's got a good, strong grip, as well. She'll be a tough little buzzard." At that moment, Tom entered his den, having just returned from the Ministry, where he was overseeing things until Draco returned from his paternity leave. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the lovely tableau before he strode to his mate, wrapping a protective arm around Severus' back and looking with widened ruby eyes at the newest little Malfoy.

"She's beautiful, Calathea," the man murmured as he peered at the riotous blonde hair and pale skin. At hearing the man's voice, Laelia opened silvery emerald eyes and looked at Riddle curiously. A small smile creased the chubby cheeks, making Tom snort in amusement. "She's going to be a little heartbreaker. You'll have to beat them off with a club when she gets older, Draco." The blond scowled at the thought, his arms tightening protectively around his daughter.

"Please don't get him worked up, uncle Tom," Thea pleaded softly. "I don't want him to go into hyper-protective mode at the moment. That can wait until she attends Hogwarts. Now, we're here to enact the godparent bond with you and Severus, if you'll accept." Ruby eyes widened in shock before a wide, beaming smile graced Riddle's face.

"We would be honored," he murmured, Severus nodding his agreement.

* * *

"I'm going to _kill_ you, Ronald Weasley," Hermione huffed in exhaustion. The redhead paled, his freckles standing out in stark relief. His wife was on the cot, feet in stirrups as the Healer was extracting her baby. Even with pain relieving draughts and magic, the experience was completely uncomfortable. "If you think you're ever getting near me again, you have another think coming." On the Gryffindor's other side, Thea snorted her amusement as she held Hermione's hand, offering her the same support that the Slytherin had received at her own birthing.

"Don't worry, Ron," the raven said. "She doesn't really mean it. As soon as your son is born, she'll change her mind."

"Fat chance of _that_ happening," Hermione snapped, glaring at her best friend. Buried deeply beneath the irritation was fear; fear of complications, fear of the prospect of motherhood in its entirety.

"It's all right, Mione," Thea reassured, her hand going to the sweaty brow and brushing back the damp hair. "You'll be a _wonderful_ mother. Who knows? Maybe motherhood will help you curb your overzealousness when it comes to studying and getting good marks."

"I doubt that," Ron mumbled almost inaudibly, earning himself a glare that made him flinch in self-preservation. He put on a strained smile as he awkwardly patted his wife's shoulder in comfort. Before the bushy haired girl could excoriate her husband, there was a loud cry as her son made his presence in the world known. She forgot her irritation and the pain as her eyes widened in joy. Instantly her arms went out, demanding her son.

"You'll need to wait a few moments, Mrs. Weasley," the mediwitch assistant murmured. "We need to clean him up and get his measurements." Before too long, a swaddled babe was placed in his exhausted mother's arms, and everyone stared at the baby in fascination. He had wispy auburn hair and honeyed skin, the hereditary freckles blending in so that they weren't obvious. He opened his eyes to reveal hazel orbs, surrounded by thick, dark lashes.

"He's so _handsome_ ," Thea whispered excitedly. "The perfect blend of the both of you. What are you going to name him?"

"I'd like to name him Heath Marvolo Weasley," the Gryffindor replied, looking hesitantly at her husband. He only nodded his head, too overwhelmed to say anything.

"That's _wonderful_ ," Thea replied happily. "Tom will be so _pleased_."

* * *

The removal of the 'pregnancy pouch' went off without a hitch. As the Healer removed the pouch, she cast spells that eliminated the 'umbilical cord' as well as the nutrient-rich environment surrounding the baby. The mediwitch had her hands under the pouch, towel at the ready to clean and prepare the baby for his introduction to his parents. As the pouch was peeled away, Severus winced at the feeling of something being torn from his body, heaving a sigh when the procedure was complete. "I love you, darling, but I'm never doing that again," he told his mate. Tom chuckled nervously, ruby eyes intent on his son as the mediwitch whisked him away to clean him up and get his measurements. The child had made no sound as he was born, and Severus looked at the Healer worriedly.

"It's all right, Mr. Riddle," she soothed quietly. "He's breathing just fine. He's going to be a quiet one." Soon enough, Severus' arms were wrapped around his son, cradling him tenderly against his chest. The infant had thick dark hair and skin the color of ivory. He was long and slender, with ten perfect fingers and toes. Tom leaned over the swaddled newborn and brushed a gentle kiss to his forehead. The baby wriggled a little and wrinkled his nose before blinking open ruby eyes, with a ring of ebon circling the outside of the irises.

"His eyes are remarkable," the Dark Lord whispered reverently. Severus hummed his agreement, smiling down at his beautiful son.

"What would you like to name him?" the Potions Master asked, never taking his eyes off of the baby in his arms.

"How about Maximilian Severus Riddle?" Tom said. Before Severus could answer, there was a gentle tap on the door. "You may come in," Riddle called out, smiling as Draco and Thea came in, carrying Laelia. Behind them came Ron and Hermione, with Heath cradled in Ron's arms. "Welcome, children. Severus has just given birth to Maximilian Severus Riddle."

"That's a strong name, sir," Ron replied respectfully with a bow of his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Severus intoned with a smile.

* * *

 _Ten years later_

"Did you ever expect everything to turn out the way it has?" Thea asked her husband. In the intervening years, they had produced three more children; two boys and a girl. Their home was full and happy, and the guest house was always occupied by their friends. Draco's responsibilities to the wizarding world had grown, but his shoulders were broad enough to take on the burden. Hermione's work in the Magical Creatures and Beings Liaison Office had continued, with her becoming supervisor of the entire department. Under her purview was also the Magical-Muggle Relations Office, as well as the Intelligent Magical Beings Rights Office. She had a cadre of staff, willing and able to do her bidding at a moment's notice. They soon forgot that she was a muggleborn; they had grown to respect her intelligence and power, and were awed at her remarkable skills in negotiations. Tom was exceedingly proud of her, and showed her every chance he could.

Ron's stint as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had ended after two years; Tom was interested in his strategic mind, as well as his magical strength, and had created a private security office within the Ministry. Ron's job was to provide protection to visiting dignitaries, as well as providing protection for the important people of the Ministry. He had an office full of security staff, whom he had trained himself, using his best friend's methods to guide him. He was flourishing in his position, and his parents were proud of him.

The Weasleys had dropped their prejudices, once they saw the direction the wizarding world was going. It didn't hurt that Albus Dumbledore had made a visit to the Weasley home, to explain a few painful truths. After Molly had reamed the former headmaster, they all sat down to dinner and conversation. Ginny was disappointed that she wouldn't have the savior for her very own, but understood the tough choice that Harry had to make to ensure that everyone would be safe and happy. She was hurt that he couldn't come to _her_ for help, then realized, somewhat shamefully, that she had treated him as everyone else had. Not as a person, but as a hero. It was then that she realized that she didn't truly love _him_ ; she had fallen in love with the _ideal_ of him. Arthur was offered the position of Undersecretary to the Minister, and he happily accepted. Tom was impressed with the man's experience and expertise, and thought he'd make a good link between the Ministry and Draco.

Severus, true to his word, never carried another child. The next two were carried by surrogates. Pansy volunteered to be one, giving birth to a beautiful baby girl, while Luna volunteered to carry the other; a boy with auburn hair and dark eyes. Pansy, herself, was happily married to Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott. She loved both of them, and after a bit of wrangling and flexing, the boys agreed to be a triad, with her at the apex. Blaise was a law wizard, ensconced in the prestigious law firm of Rosier, Selwyn and Zabini. He had made partner four years ago, bringing in thousands of galleons yearly as the youngest and best solicitor in the wizarding world. Theo took on an apprenticeship with Severus, gaining his mastery after four years and becoming the second youngest Master to achieve the distinction.

"Honestly?" Draco murmured as he stroked his wife's feet. She purred happily at the tender caresses, melting into the sofa like butter. "I expected the wizarding world to be torn apart by the differing ideologies, and I expected you to have died sacrificing your life for a pointless goal. It amazes me how much has changed and gotten better since we first started talking."

"I know," Thea answered. "When I made that decision, I only wanted everything to stop. I wanted to be free to live my life the way I wished. I didn't know, nor did I really care, about the long-reaching consequences of my choice. Now, life is so wonderful, for everyone. You are brilliant at what you do, and I find it amazing that you can mediate between the differing ideologies so successfully. Between you and Tom, our world is thriving and growing, and the muggle world is less threatening. They seem to be happy that we're helping them as much as we can with their health crises."

"Thank you, love, for your support," the blond replied with a small blush. "You are the reason I do what I do every day. I want to make sure that what happened to you, and what happened to the other muggleborns and halfbloods, doesn't happen again. We all deserve to have a safe and happy world, and I will do all that I can to ensure that we have that."

"I want you to know that you're my own personal hero, Draco. You saw me and saved me when I needed someone. You gave me everything I've ever wanted. I love you."


End file.
